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OF 

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OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


He  even  held  out  his  hand  to  re-assure  her." — r- 


OR, 


HOME 


A  UK®  IE  IB 


NEW    YORK: 
D.  APPLETON   &   COMPANY,    346  A   348   BROADWAY. 


IS.H.Ii:trtlctt. 

LOSS  AND  GAIN ; 


OR, 


MA.RaA.RET'8    HOME. 


BY 

ALICE    B.  HAVEN. 


NEW  YORK: 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

846  &  848  BROADWAY. 
LONDON:  16  LITTLE  BRITAIN. 

M.DCCC.LX. 


ENTERED,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1860,  by 
D.  APPLETON  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  tho  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


LOSS  AND  GAIN; 

OB, 

MARGARET'S    HOME. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Have  I  not  been  nigh  a  mother 
To  thy  sweetness  ?    Tell  me,  dear, 
Have  we  not  loved  one  another 

Tenderly  from  year  to  year, 
Since  our  dying  mother,  mild, 

Said,  with  accents  undefined, 
«  Child,  be  mother  to  this  child"  ? 

MRS.  BROWNING. 

"  OH,  it  is  cold,  and  so  dark,  sister  !  I  don't 
think  it  can  be  five  o'clock." 

"  But  it  is,  Susie.  I  heard  it  strike  just  before 
father  called  us." 

"  Just  one  more  little  nap,"  urged  the  child, 
sleepily.  "  My  side  ached  so  when  I  first  came 
to  bed !  It  seems  as  if  I  had  just  got  warm  and 
comfortable."  • 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK 


The  elder  sister  felt  the  force  of  the  appeal,  as 
well  as  the  silent  pleading  of  the  thin  arms  wound 
tightly  around  her  neck,  and  the  face  nestled  more 
closely  to  her  own.  It  required  effort,  even  for 
her,  to  rise  in  the  cold  and  darkness  of  the  wintry 
morning,  and  to  bring  her  mind  to  the  routine  of 
the  day's  employments.  Susie  was  never  well, 
and  had  turned  so  restlessly  the  first  of  the  night, 
that  she  knew  she  must  be  suffering  more  than 
usual. 

"  Margaret !  "  called  a  voice  again  from  the 
foot  of  the  stairs,  and  this  time  impatiently. 
"  Margaret !  Susie !  come,  come  ;  what  are  you 
about  up  there,  both  of  you  ?  Your  mother's  had 
a  bad  night,  and  wants  Susie  to  take  the  baby." 

It  seemed  as  if  "  bad  nights  "  were  much  the 
fashion  in  Mr.  Grant's  household.  His  wife  was 
always  complaining  that  the  baby  had  kept  her 
awake,  and  she  "must  have  her  morning  nap, 
or  she  shouldn't  be  fit  for  a  thing  all  day." 
Mr.  Grant  never  made  his  final  appearance  until 
an  hour  that  would  have  been  inexcusable  in  a 
poor  man,  but  for  midnight  vigils  that  kept  the 
curiosity  of  the  whole  neighborhood  alive. 

Margaret,  the  eldest  daughter,  who  shared  the 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  7 

little  upper  chamber  with  her  sister,  would  wil 
lingly  have  borne  the  morning  drudgery,  but  that 
she  had  separate  tasks  of  her  own.  As  it  was,  she 
nerved  herself  to  meet  the  cold  air  of  the  room, 
and  passed  her  hand  tenderly  over  the  sharp  out 
line  of  the  face  she  could  not  see  for  the  darkness, 
rousing  the  little  sleeper  with  a  kiss. 

"  I  can't  give  you  another  minute,  Susie.  It 
is  very  late,  I'm  afraid.  Father  has  called  us 
twice.  You  won't  mind,  after  you  are  once  out 
of  bed ;  and  I  will  have  the  fire  lighted  by  the 
time  you  come  down." 

"  Oh,  sister,  I  do  wish  we  were  rich !  "  the 
child  said,  wearily  turning  again,  and  clasping 
the  pillow  Margaret  had  deserted.  "  I  wouldn't 
get  up  for  two  whole  weeks." 

"  And  what  would  you  do  ?  "  said  Margaret, 
cheerfully,  groping  about  for  her  clothes,  and  talk 
ing  that  she  might  rouse  Susie  more  effectually. 

"  I'd  have  a  fire  in  my  room  all  night ; 
wouldn't  you,  dear  ?  and  you  should  stay  at  home 
with  me  ;  and  we'd  live  all  by  ourselves  ;  wouldn't 
we,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  "What  a  selfish  little  thing  !  "  Margaret's 
voice  was  still  playful,  though  she  fairly  trembled 


8  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

with  the  cold ;  and  her  hands  were  stiff  and  be 
numbed  as  she  arranged  her  abundant  hair. 
u  There  !  I'm  almost  through  ;  and  you  haven't 
stirred.  Come  !  here's  your  dress  and  apron  ;  and 
I  put  your  stockings  under  the  pillow,  last  night, 
to  keep  them  from  freezing.  Let's  see  if  you 
won't  be  ready  first,  after  all !  Tell  me  some  more 
of  your  famous  plans,  if  we  were  rich." 

"  You  should  be  a  lady,"  said  Susie,  starting 
up  at  last,  but  more  with  eager  thought  than 
strength  of  will — "  a  real  lady,  and  ride  in  a  car 
riage,  and  never  have  to  go  poking  off  to  that 
store,  and  get  wet  through  and  through  in  rainy 
weather,  and  come  home  tired  to  death.  You 
should  have  every  thing ;  you're  so  good  !  I  don't 
want  much,  you  know,  only  to  be  warm,  and  rest 
ed,  and  have  plenty  of  books,  and  no  children  to 
tend." 

Poor  Susie !  The  last  was  the  great  trouble 
of  her  young  life.  There  was  always  a  baby  in 
the  family  ;  and  Mrs.  Grant's  babies  were  invaria 
bly  cross.  They  were  neither  sweet,  nor  sprightly, 
nor  affectionate — not  that  it  was  any  fault  of  theirs, 
poor,  neglected  little  things  !  They  throve  bodily, 
nevertheless,  and  were  heavy  and  lumpish,  with 


MAKGAEET  8   HOME.  9 

hanging  cheeks  and  projecting  eyes,  a  great  weight 
for  any  one  to  lift,  and  a  perpetual  strain  upon 
Susie,  to  whom  the  chief  care  fell.  She  was  Mr. 
Grant's  child  by  a  former  marriage,  Margaret's 
own  sister,  and  as  different  as  possible  from  the 
present  juveniles  of  the  family.  Her  figure  was 
slender,  and  bent  into  a  settled  stoop  by  this  con 
tinual  child-nursing.  Her  face,  though  delicate, 
wanted  the  roundness  and  coloring  of  health  to 
make  it  attractive ;  while  her  large  gray  eyes, 
"  neither  joyous  nor  sorry,"  had  a  dreamy,  un- 
childlike  expression.  It  was  no  wonder  that, 
with  the  habit  of  reverie,  so  unnatural  to  a  shy, 
gentle  disposition,  made  quiet  by  pain  and  weak 
ness,  Mrs.  Grant  and  her  familiar  friends  should 
consider  Susie  a  stupid  little  thing — "  obstinate 
and  sulky  into  the  bargain,"  Mrs.  Grant  would 
say  to  them.  "  But  that  was  Margaret's  fault. 
Margaret  was  always  putting  her  up  to  notions, 
and  interfering,  if  she  tried  to  make  her  mind." 

It  was  true  that  Margaret  was  the  only  one 
that  ever  took  Susie's  part  in  the  systematic  house 
hold  oppression,  of  which  she  was  the  subject ; 
but,  to  the  child,  she  was  always  soothing  and 
self-restrained.  She  listened  every  night  with 


10  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

motherly  love  and  patience,  to  the  trials  and  griev 
ances  of  the  day ;  and,  though  they  wrung  her 
heart  and  chafed  her  spirit,  she  was  ready  to  ex 
cuse  Mrs.  Grant  to  the  child.  "  I  wouldn't  mind, 
if  I  were  you.  She  doesn't  mean  to  be  cross,  I 
don't  believe.  We  won't  say  any  thing  about  it 
this  time ;  father  worries  so.  It  will  all  come 
right  one  of  these  days."  Yet  Margaret  could  not 
see  t  how,  any  better  than  her  weary  little  sister. 
So  far,  every  thing  had  "  come  wrong  "  since  Mrs. 
Grant's  introduction  to  the  family.  She  had  never 
ceased  wondering  how  her  father  could  have  mar 
ried  a  person  so  unlike  her  own  mother,  who  had 
supplied  energy  to  his  wavering  but  kindly  dispo 
sition,  and,  by  cheerful,  industrious  ways,  always 
managed  to  keep  their  home  in  peace  and  com 
fort.  She  had  seen  heavy  trials  before  her  death 
— first  of  all,  the  failure  of  her  husband's  numer 
ous  projects,  a  gradual  settling  down  in  society, 
as  he  became  more  and  more  a  schemer ;  while 
those  with  whom  she  had  commenced  life  rose 
above  even  the  remembrance  of  their  early  inti 
macy.  Then  came  the  loss  of  two  children  younger 
than  Margaret,  both  boys,  who  seemed  to  promise 
in  the  future  the  stay  and  dependence  she  had 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  11 

not  found  in  their  father.  Settled  ill  health  fol 
lowed,  in  addition  to  the  slow  inroads  of  poverty 
and  care,  before  the  birth  of  little  Susie,  a  wail 
ing,  feeble  child. 

When  Margaret's  mother  came  to  end  the  hard 
struggle  with  adversity,  and  laid  down  to  die — 
knowing  that  it  must  still  be  borne  by  her  children 
— many  wondered  at  her  composure,  and  the 
cheerful  loving-heartedness  for  all  others  in  sorrow 
and  affliction ;  which  was  shown  in  word  and 
deed.  She  had  her  secret  struggles  with  a 
mother's  natural  aifection  and  solicitude.  Many 
a  wrestling  prayer  went  up  in  the  still  midnight 
for  faith  and  trust  for  them.  For  herself,  she  did 
not  doubt  the  wisdom  and  goodness  which  were 
hidden  in  the  losses  and  disappointments  that  had 
subdued  the  pride  and  ambition  of  her  character, 
to  the  humble  meekness  of  a  Christian,  and  taught 
her  to  look  forward  with  a  longing  to  the  "  rest " 
which  is  thus  won.  But,  for  them !  oh,  how  her 
mother's  heart  yearned  unutterably  to  bear  the 
sickly  little  baby  with  her,  away  from  all  pain, 
and  wailing,  and  to  secure  her  fair  bright  Marga 
ret  from  the  trials  which  she  had  endured  ! 

It  is  so  much  harder  to  be  resigned  to  the 


12  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

needful  chastening  of  those  we  love,  than  to  bear 
the  heavy  stripes  ourselves.  In  the  blindness  of 
earthly  affection,  we  would  remove  them  from  the 
stroke,  though  acknowledging  that  for  ourselves, 
in  very  mercy  he  hath  corrected  us. 

The  prayers  were  heard,  and  the  angel  of  His 
presence  came  with  the  consolation  of  a  trust  far 
greater  than  human  foresight,  to  that  lonely  death 
bed ;  that  revealed  the  blessing  of  the  lingering 
illness  ;  time  to  teach  and  to  illustrate  by  patience 
in  suffering  the  lessons  of  her  own  life,  to  the 
daughter  on  whom  her  burden  was  to  be  laid. 

Already  matured  by  sharing  her  mother's 
anxieties,  Margaret  saw  the  last  look  turned  from 
her  father's  face  to  the  sleeping1  baby  sister,  and 
then  resting  on  herself,  with  a  mute,  wistful  plead 
ing.  She  comprehended  its  fullest  meaning.  She 
was  to  watch  over,  and  care  for  them,  to  supply 
as  far  as  possible  her  mother's  vacant  place.  She 
had  tried  to  do  this,  in  her  ignorance  and  inexpe 
rience,  looking  for  help,  as  she  had  been  taught, 
to  a  Counsellor  that  could  also  aid.  Her  father 
called  her  his  "  comforter,"  the  child  repaid  her 
love  with  clinging  fondness.  But  this  was  not  her 
life-trial.  Another  came  to  them  in  her  dead 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  13 

mother's  stead,  a  selfish,  characterless,  aimless 
woman,  whose  influence  upon  her  father  was  the 
reverse  of  all  that  the  first  Mrs.  Grant  had  been  ; 
and  he  became  more  and  more  a  dreamer,  with  a 
spirit  broken,  and  a  temper  made  irritable  by  re 
peated  failures,  and  the  taunts  that  were  sure  to 
follow.  Her  present  occupation  relieved  Marga 
ret  in  a  measure  from  the  irksomeness  of  home, 
but  Susie's  bondage  was  a  constant,  daily  trial. 
Rebelling  in  heart  at  the  change,  she  still  prayed, 
and  tried  to  hope  that  all  would  be  well  in  the 
end  even  for  her  motherless  little  charge.  But  it 
needed  constant  watchfulness  over  herself,  and 
now  that  winter  had  come  again,  with  no  cessation 
of  Susie's  toil,land  hardships,  the  temptation  to 
murmur  and  despond  was  ever  present.  This 
cheerless  day  dawn,  especially  weighed  upon  her 
spirits ;  but  her  face  lightened,  as  she  heard  the 
slow,  unwilling  footsteps  of  the  child,  creeping 
down  the  stairs.  She  had  been  moving  about 
quickly,  and  a  fire  already  began  to  speak  for  it 
self  with  a  little  snap,  and  crackle,  which  did  its 
best  to  sound  like  household  music. 

"There,"   said    Margaret,   as   Susie    couched 
down,  and  held  her  benumbed  hands  close  to  the 


14:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

very  bars  of  the  grate ;  "  you  see  I  always  do  as 
I  say,  and  here's  the  fire  I  promised  you ;  take 
care,  the  stove  will  heat  faster  than  you  think. 
Now  here's  the  teakettle,  and  the  baby  has  gone 
to  sleep  again  I  guess,  for  I  haven't  heard  a  sound 
since  I  came  down  stairs." 

"  But  my  side  aches  as  bad  as  it  did  last  night, 
and  it  hurts  me  so  to  lift  off  the  kettle,  and  the 
children  are  always  so  cross,  and  won't  stand  still 
when  I  try  to  wash  their  faces.  Oh,  dear,  what 
shall  I  do,  sister  ?  " 

"  Give  up  trying,  and  lie  down  and  die !  "  rose 
to  Margaret's  lips,  bitterly  ;  for  she  knew  it  was 
all  so,  and  saw  no  brighter  future  before  them. 
But  it  was  not  the  first  time  sle  had  checked 
promptings  like  these,  and  no  one  would  have 
guessed  they  had  arisen  from  the  tone  of  her  reply. 

"  Do  ?  Why,  as  well  as  you  can,  Susie.  No 
one  can  do  more  than  that.  I'll  rub  your  side 
again,  to-night.  That  always  rests  you,  you  know ; 
and  perhaps  I'll  be  home  in  time  to  finish  that 
story  after  you  are  snug  and  warm  in  bed.  I'll 
keep  it  in  mind  to  comfort  me,  too,  when  I  get 
tired  and  cross  waiting  on  people." 

"  I  don't  think  you  know  how  to  get  cross." 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  15 

And  the  child  brightened  with  the  love  that 
prompted  this  firm  belief.  "  Ruth  says  you  don't ; 
and  she  says  you  get  prettier  every  day." 

"  Poh,  Susie !  Is  that  all  you  and  Ruth  have 
to  talk  about  ?  "What  does  she  know  of  my  tem 
per  ?  I  do  get  outrageously  cross  sometimes,  and 
shall  now,  if  that  kettle  doesn't  boil  pretty  soon. 
It's  high  time  it  was  off." 

"  I  wish  it  wasn't  so  far  to  the  store." 

"  So  do  I ;  and  then  you  could  come  and  walk 
home  with  me,  sometimes  in  the  spring,  when  the 
days  get  longer,  and  you  get  stronger,"  she  added, 
in  the  playful  tone  which  was  such  a  cordial  to 
Susie's  depression.  "  But  we  shouldn't  quarrel 
with  our  bread  and  butter  ;  should  we  ?  I'm  all 
ready  for  mine." 

Susie  did  not  insist  on  old  Ruth's  opinion  ;  but 
her  faith  in  Margaret's  perfections  was  unchanged, 
as  she  watched  her  eating  her  hurried  meal  by  the 
gray  dawn  that  now  came  to  aid  the  red  flashes  of 
the  firelight.  The  surroundings  were  humble 
enough  ;  the  small  room  scantily  furnished,  carpet- 
less,  and  in  its  early  morning  disorder ;  nor  did 
Margaret's  dress  add  much  to  the  picture,  a"  choco 
late  print,  close  fitting,  and  without  any  attempt 


16  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

at  elegance,  save  its  first  element,  simplicity  ;  but, 
as  she  stood  before  the  window,  a  bright  tartan 
shawl  wrapped  around  her,  and  the  early  sunlight 
just  tinging  the  masses  of  her  abundant  hair,  she 
was  not  unpicturesque,  though  far  from  being  as 
beautiful  as  the  child  regarded  her.  When  the 
cup  was  set  down,  the  shawl  pinned  closely  over 
her  well-developed  figure,  and  the  straw  bonnet 
with  its  faded  ribbons  tied  on,  no  stranger  would 
have  looked  at  her  a  second  time  in  passing. 
There  was  nothing  of  the  elegantly  distressed 
heroine  of  romance  about  her.  She  looked  exactly 
what  she  was,  a  store  girl  on  the  way  to  her  daily 
morning  tasks. 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  17 


CHAPTEE   II. 

IT  was  now  three^years  since  Margaret  Grant 
had  the  good  fortune  to  secure  a  situation  in  the 
large  establishment  of  Churchill  &  Choate,  one  of 
the  oldest  and  most  respectable  firms  in  the  city, 
and,  though  not  situated  in  Chestnut  street,  with 
its  own  share  of  fashionable  popularity.  Some  of 
the  handsomest  carriages  and  best  people  in  town 
were  always  to  be  found  there.  Highly  respecta 
ble  old  ladies,  particularly  of  the  Quaker  connec 
tion,  whose  wedding-dresses  of  soft  dove-colored 
silk  had  been  purchased  at  its  counters,  brought 
their  daughters  in  turn  to  choose  the  more  worldly 
brocade  or  moire,  in  which  they  were  to  declare 
their  intention  of  taking  to  themselves  a  husband 
before  the  assembled  "  meeting."  Substantial 
families  who  were  contented  with  the  width  and 
comfort  of  a  cross-street  house,  without  even  as 
piring  to  the  narrower  gentility  of  the  West  End 


18  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

squares,  made  liberal  purchases  in  the  spring  and 
autumn,  paying  cash  for  the  same ;  and,  though 
it  was  of  rather  equivocal  advantage  to  the  firm, 
long  bills  from  those  fashionable  quarters  accu 
mulated  greatly  at  Christmasy  particularly  in  the 
items  of  lace  and  evening-dress  generally.  Their 
gloves  were  native  Parisians  beyond  dispute  ;  and 
in  shawls  there  was  the  mqst  unlimited  choice, 
from  the  comfortable  Bay  IState  to  the  brilliant 
hues  and  designs  of  Delisle,  from  the  last  exposi 
tion  or  the  faded  splendors  of  real  Indian  cash 
meres.  But,  if  Churchill  &  Choate  had  one  repu 
tation  above  another,  it  was  in  the  household  fur 
nishing  department.  Such  blankets  and  counter 
panes  !  such  Irish  linen  and  Russian  table  napery ! 
such  stout  Buickabuck  and  Allendale  flannels  !  It 
was  a  treat  for  any  one  with  housekeeping  pro 
pensities  to  inspect  them  ;  and  it  always  had  been 
so  from  the  time  of  young  Mr.  Churchill's  father, 
who  had  handed  down  the  reputation  of  the  house, 
and  the  wherewithal  to  sustain  it,  to  his  only  son, 
and  his  faithful  head  clerk,  Caleb  Choate,  whose 
conservative  pinciples  were  sure  to  check  any 
modern  business  innovations.  It  was,  perhaps, 
owing  to  this  balance-wheel  in  the  internal  ma- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  19 

chinery  that  the  firm  owed  nothing  of  their  pros 
perity  to  outward  display  and  decoration.  The 
younger  Mr.  Churchill  had  natural  good  taste, 
heightened  by  artistic  cultivation,  as  was  proved 
by  his  selections  in  the  department  especially  un 
der  his  control;  and  foreign  travel  and  associa 
tion  had  made  a  visible  difference  in  address  be 
tween  him  and  the  late  respected  senior  partner, 
Mr.  Churchill,  who  had  been  the  founder  of  his 
own  fortunes,  was  bluff,  good-natured,  and  thor 
oughly  respectable.  His  son,  with  the  same  kind 
ly  disposition,  had  an  almost  womanly  gentleness 
of  manner  and  speech,  with  an  outward  reserve 
the  reverse  of  his  father's  hilarity.  He  never 
could  have  made  their  present  popularity  with  all 
classes,  though  his  well-known  integrity  sustained 
it.  Mr.  Caleb  set  his  worthy  face  steadily  against 
the  spirit  of  the  times,  frowning  down  plate-glass 
windows  and  brown  stone  fronts,  loudly  asserting 
that  what  had  made  his  father's  fortune  would 
secure  theirs,  and  that  a  solid  reputation  for  good 
articles  and  fair  prices  was  worth  all  the  ginger 
bread  work  of  modern  architects. 

As  nearly  in  the  centre  of   the  multiplied 
wholesale  and  retail  divisions  as  it  was  possible  to 


20  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

plant  it  stood  the  desk,  an  awful  bar  of  judgment 
to  delinquent  cash  boys  and  late  or  idle  clerks,  for 
it  was  the  post  of  observation  from  which  Mr. 
Caleb  surveyed  all  things  with  a  far-seeing  scruti 
ny.  Now  and  then,  when  it  was  least  expected, 
he  descended  from  the  stool  of  state,  and  walked, 
in  an  apparently  absent  way — as  if  for  the  moder 
ate  exercise  which  health  demanded — through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  his  domains.  The  pen,  ex 
tending  stiffly  from  behind  his  ear,  was  not  more 
unbending  than  Mr.  Caleb's  figure ;  the  red  silk 
handkerchief  nourished  at  intervals  from  the  desk, 
now  drooped  slightly  from  the  pocket  of  his  gray 
office  coat ;  his  shirt  collar  described  an  exact 
angle  from  his  close  mown  chin ;  his  long  thin 
hands  were  folded  after  a  fashion  of  his  own,  sug 
gestive  of  a  descent  from  broad  brims,  and  a  dis 
tant  connection  with  yearly  meetings.  At  the 
moment  of  his  appearance,  absent  minded  though 
he  seemed,  woe  to  any  delinquent  on  whom  his 
keen  eyes  fell.  Pocket  mirrors  were  replaced 
with  marvellous  rapidity  by  young  gentlemen 
speculating  on  the  whisker  crop  ;  groups  of  dam 
sels,  gossiping  over  the  last  bit  of  scandal  report 
ed  by  one  fashionable  customer  to  another,  sepa- 


MAHGAHET'S  HOME.  21 

rated  silently,  and  commenced  a  hasty  rearrange 
ment  of  dress  goods.  Order  and  diligence  follow 
ed  everywhere  in  the  path  of  the  upright  Mr. 
Caleb. 

The  influence  of  Mr.  Churchill  on  this  great 
community  of  employees  was  quite  as  great, 
though  outwardly  less  marked.  His  father's 
daily  appearance — for  the  old  gentleman  had  still 
an  unconquerable  longing  after  the  scene  of  his 
busy  life — was  the  signal  for  smiles  and  harmless 
jests  from  all  quarters ;  but  they  would  have  as 
soon  thought  of  venturing  on  a  pleasantry  with 
the  austere  Mr.  Caleb,  as  the  younger  man,  who 
made  his  round  as  a  matter  of  necessity  rather 
than  choice.  It  was  quite  as  well,  considering 
how  many  bright  eyes  and  fair  hands  he  was  in 
daily  contact  with,  that  he  had  this  pride  or  rather 
reserve  of  character.  All  were  not  as  prudent  as 
Miss  Choate,  Mr.  Caleb's  maiden  sister,  who  still 
occupied  her  ancient  post,  and  was,  by  general  ac 
quiescence,  considered  as  sub-manager  under  him 
of  the  female  flock.  Miss  Choate's  spectacles 
looked  with  forbidding  coolness  on  the  introduc 
tion  of  all  elaborate  hair-dressing,  whether  plaits 
or  curls,  and  smiled  only  on  the  dark  prints  and 


22  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

woollen  stuffs  which  she  had  worn  in  the  days 
when  she  first  set  out  to  help  Caleb  "  make  his 
fortune,"  still  adhered  to,  though  the  object  was 
accomplished. 

Such,  then,  was  the  internal  rule  of  the  highly 
respectable  house  of  Churchill  &  Choate,  where 
Margaret's  day,  from  seven  in  the  morning  until 
seven  at  night,  was  invariably  passed.  Cheerful 
and  animated  as  the  whole  establishment  seemed 
at  the  fashionable  shopping  hour,  when  a  line  of 
carriages  stretched  around  the  corner,  and  their 
late  occupants  added  brilliancy  to  the  interior  by 
rich  and  fanciful  toilets,  it  was  scarcely  even  com 
fortable  when  the  arrivals  for  the  day  began.  Cot 
ton  hangings  secured  the  costly  fabrics  on  the 
shelves  from  the  dust  of  a  daily  cleansing ;  the 
counters  were  empty,  the  windows  undraped,  the 
uncarpeted  floor  so  cold,  the  atmosphere  gray  and 
chilly  everywhere. 

Margaret  always  dreaded  this  beginning  of  her 
day.  Fresh  from  home,  and  the  recollection  of  its 
annoyances,  they  pressed  more  heavily  in  the 
midst  of  physical  discomforts.  It  was  especially 
so  now.  She  could  not  rid  herself  of  Susie's  sug 
gestion.  Why,  indeed,  could  they  not  have  a 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  23 

home  of  their  own,  free  from  the  exactions  de 
manded  of  herself,  and  the  constant  tyranny  to 
which  the  child  was  exposed  ?  What  claim  had 
the  father's  wife  on  her  hard  earnings,  more  and 
more  absorbed  in  the  household  expenses,  while 
the  simplest  necessities  of  her  dress  were  allowed 
to  her  grudgingly  ?  Her  daily  associates  led,  by 
comparison,  gay,  pleasant  lives.  They  talked  of 
balls,  and  parties,  and  concerts,  after  the  fashion 
of  those  whom  they  served.  She  had  never  known 
an  evening's  indulgence  with  all  her  passionate 
love  of  music.  "Was  it  just,  this  hard,  self-deny 
ing  life,  to  herself,  and,  above  all,  to  Susie,  with 
her  bright,  quick  intellect,  and  a  voice,  her 
mother's  voice,  though  stronger  and  richer,  almost 
thrilling,  even  with  the  lack  of  all  cultivation  ? 
This  surely  ought  to  be  developed  and  trained  as 
a  means  of  livelihood.  Susie  would  never  be  well 
enough  to  stand  behind  a  counter,  lifting  and  fold 
ing  heavy  fabrics,  that  macfe  her  own  strong  arms 
ache  with  fatigue — or,  worse  still,  to  bend  over 
her  needle  at  the  trade  Mrs.  Grant  was  always 
threatening  her  with.  Margaret's  face  grew  grave, 
almost  to  sullenness,  as  a  rash  determination  of 
escape,  at  all  hazards,  sprang  up  ;  and  her  hands 


24:  LOSS   AND   GAIN  J    OK, 

busied  themselves   abstractedly  in   the  arrange 
ment  of  her  wares. 

"  I'd  thank  you  to  let  my  pattern-cards  alone," 
said  a  pettish  disagreeable  voice  at  her  side,  for 
she  was  searching  boxes  in  charge  of  her  next 
neighbor  as  she  indulged  in  this  bitter  reverie. 

This  young  girl,  whose  companionship  was 
particularly  distasteful  to  Margaret,  was  a  general 
favorite  with  their  regular  customers,  and  took  airs 
accordingly.  She  knew  that  many  of  them  would 
wait  to  be  served  by  her,  and  that  the  knowledge 
of  this  attraction  was  not  without  weight  at  head 
quarters.  Even  Miss  Choate,  with  her  rigid  no 
tion  of  dress  and  propriety,  overlooked  many  a 
fault  in  Addie  Long,  and  was  always  ready  to 
shield  her  from  Mr.  Caleb's  displeasure.  But 
with  her  pretty  face  and  winning  manner,  she 
was  giddy  and  frivolous,  without  a  thought  save 
dress  and  admiration.  It  was  not  amiability,  but 
to  win  this  needful  stimulant,  that  she  had  a 
smile  for  every  lady  customer,  and  a  glance  for 
every  gentleman  awaiting  a  wife  or  sister's  pur 
chase.  She  could  never  understand  how  the 
grave  and  quiet  Margaret  was  almost,  if  not  quite 
as  great  a  favorite  as  herself;  but  she  was  in 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  25 

some  sort,  a  rival,  and  therefore  to  be  annoyed 
with  the  petty  shafts  of  ill-natured  jealousy. 
"  You  are  growing  very  careless  and  disagreeable, 
Margaret  Grant,  I  can  tell  you,"  she  added, 
though  Margaret  had  instantly  resigned  the  box 
with  an  apology.  "  I'm  not  the  only  one  that 
sees  it,  either.  I  heard  your  name  at  the  desk, 
last  night,  while  I  was  kept  waiting  with  that 
last  bill  of  goods.  Mr.  Caleb  it  was,  and  Mr. 
Churchill  himself.  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  brought 
up  by  him,  with  all  his  smooth  words.  You 
needn't  get  so  red  over  it." 

Margaret's  face  grew  scarlet.  She  was  over 
sensitive  to  blame.  That  was  a  part  of  her  na 
ture  ;  and  this  she  felt  was  undeserved.  She  had 
been  unhappy  for  a  month  past,  ever  since  the 
first  sharp  autumn  days  had  added  to  Susie's 
hardships  ;  but  she  could  not  accuse  herself  of  the 
least  neglect.  The  young  girl's  loud  tone  had 
attracted  the  attention  of  all  around ;  and  yet 
the  charge  was  so  indefinite  that  she  could  say 
nothing  in  return.  It  was  the  commencement  of 
a  weary  morning,  and  made  her  apparently  guilty 
of  the  very  faults  with  which  she  had  been 

charged.     She  could  not  bring  her  thoughts  to 
2 


26  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

the  work  before  her.  Twice  her  bills  were  sent 
back  from  the  desk  with  an  error  in  the  reckon 
ing  marked  by  Mr.  Caleb  himself.  She  named 
wrong  prices,  forgot  her  measurements,  and  an 
swered  all  questions  with  preoccupied  abstrac 
tion  that  excited  the  remark  of  all  around  her. 

Never  had  she  been  more  thankful  to  hear 
the  measured  stroke  of  the  State  House  clock, 
which  released  her  for  the  noon  recess.  She  longed 
to  be  alone ;  but  the  dressing-room  was  in  a  stir 
and  hum  as  she  entered  it. 

A  good-natured  girl,  with  no  pretensions  to 
beauty,  ran  up  to  her. 

"  Do  come  with  us  for  once  in  your  life,  Mar 
garet.  Let  your  lunch  be  for  to-morrow ;  'twill 
save  you  just  so  much  trouble." 

"  Come  ?  Where  ? "  said  she,  wishing  in  her 
heart  they  would  go  anywhere,  so  that  she  could 
have  her  coveted  quiet. 

"  To  Brooks's  first.  I  know  you  think  we  are 
awfully  extravagant." 

"  It's  my  treat,  though,"  said  another,  tying 
her  bonnet  before  the  little  mirror.  "  Come  on  ! 
cream-cakes  and  coffee;  and  then  we're  going 
through  Second  Street  to  look  at  hats.  I  saw  a 
beauty  at  White's — pink  uncut  velvet." 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  2Y 

"  Addie  Long  says  she  is  going  to  have  pink 
velvet,  Marianne." 

"  Then  I  won't ;  that's  certain."  And  the 
speaker  spread  out  the  very  elaborate  bows  she 
had  been  tying.  "  What  are  you  going  to  have, 
Margaret  ?  " 

"  Nothing  new,  that  I  know  of,"  said  Mar 
garet,  forcing  herself  to  be  interested,  or,  at  least, 
to  listen  pleasantly  to  the  chatter  of  these  foolish 
girls,  who  daily  fostered  an  unhealthy  appetite  by 
dainties,  and  spent  every  dollar  that  remained  on 
dress. 

"  I  declare !  you're  not  a  bit  like  other  peo 
ple  !  "  said  Marianne.  "  Where's  my  shawl,  girls  ? 
Do  somebody  look  for  it !  I  don't  believe  you'll 
ever  be  married." 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  ever  shall. 

"  Well,  I  mean  to ;  that's  certain,  if  I  can  find 
any  one  to  have  me.  Come  Ellen  Boyne  !  Betty, 
do  hurry  !  can't  you  ?  I  should  hate  to  think  I'd 
got  to  settle  down  into  an  old  maid." 

"Like  'Spectacles.'"  And  Ellen  Boyne 
pointed  over  her  shoulder  to  the  brown  silk  bon 
net  of  Miss  Choate,  occupying  the  highest  peg  in 
the  room. 


28  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Bang  went  the  green  baize  door  at  last,  swing 
ing  to  upon  their  noisy  exit ; .  and  Margaret  had 
the  quiet  which  she  craved. 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  ever  shall "  had  been  said 
in  grave  earnest,  for  she  was  slowly  renouncing 
the  one  bright  dream  which  colors  every  young 
girl's  life.  With  the  giddy  creatures  who  had 
just  left  her,  it  was  a  vision  of  nattering  atten 
tion  never  to  cease — of  unrestrained  liberty,  and 
dress,  and  sight-seeing.  With  Margaret,  it  was 
the  hope  of  finding  the  affection  and  companion 
ship  which  she  had  yearned  for  ever  since  her 
mother's  death,  which  her  father,  even  when 
kindest,  never  could  wholly  satisfy,  and  Susie's 
clinging,  grateful  heart  was  too  childish  and  inex 
perienced  to  give.  She  never  had  had,  like  most 
other  girls,  intimate  friends  of  her  own  age.  It 
was  not  pride  which  kept  her  from  the  asso 
ciation,  but.  a  lack  of  sympathy  in  what  occupied 
her  thoughts.  She  could  talk  to  old  Ruth  of  her 
troubles  ;  and  the  good  woman  had  always  some 
kind  and  consoling  thing  to  say ;  but  Ruth  was 
uneducated,  with  all  her  honest  goodness ;  and 
Margaret's  mental  advancement,  commenced  by 
her  mother,  and  carried  on  mostly  in  this  precious 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  29 

noon  hour,  had  been  rapid  even  beyond  her  own 
realization.  Boobs  were  to  be  had  for  the  hire 
and  they  were  the  one  self-indulgence  of  her 
busy  life.  To-day  she  could  not  read.  One 
courageous,  prayerful  thought,  and  the  difficulties 
which  beset  her  would  have  resolved  themselves 
into  the  phantoms  they  so  often  proved,  or 
Heaven-sent  trials,  bringing  with  them  their  own 
strength  ;  but  she  could  not  even  pray.  The  last 
random  words  of  those  who  had  just  left  her  filled 
her  heart,  already  brooding  over  the  sorrows  of 
her  young  life,  with  inexpressible  bitterness. 
"  No ;  I  shall  never  marry,"  she  said  to  herself, 
slowly.  "  Who  would  ever  ask  me  to  be  a  wife, 
that  I  could  love  and  respect,  as  I  must  a  hus 
band  ?  Then  there  are  father  and  Susie !  Poor 
father !  poor  Susie  !  " 

Some  one  opened  the  door  rudely.  It  was  a 
messenger  in  search  of  her,  with  an  unusual  and 
startling  summons.  Mr.  Choate  desired  to  see 
her  in  the  office  immediately." 

Once  a  month,  they  entered,  in  turn,  this 
inner  shrine  of  Mr.  Caleb's  authority  to  receive, 
from  his  exact  hands,  the  amount  of  salary  due, 
and  to  give  a  receipt  for  the  same.  Otherwise, 


30  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Margaret  had  never  entered  it  in  the  three  years 
of  her  service ;  and  she  knew  that  even  Miss 
Choate  seldom  ventured  to  penetrate  so  far  into 
Mr.  Caleb's  confidence.  He  was  there  before  her, 
seated  with  all  the  authority  of  a  magistrate  at  the 
table,  his  spectacles  perched  on  the  upreared  lock 
of  iron  gray  hair  above  his  forehead.  But  he 
was  not  alone.  Mr.  Churchill  stood  by  the 
window,  though  he  only  bowed  as  she  entered, 
and  did  not  move  or  speak. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  cut  short  your  hour  of  relaxa 
tion.  Ahem !  Take  a  chair,  Miss  Grant,"  pre 
faced  Mr.  Caleb. 

For  the  moment,  Margaret  could  not  even 
guess  for  what  she  was  arraigned.  Something  of 
importance,  with  all  this  solemn  preparation  ;  and 
then  Adelaide  Long's  taunt,  and  the  carelessness 
which  she  knew  herself  to  have  been  guilty  of 
since  then,  flashed  into  her  mind. 

"  Sorry  to  have  to  trouble  you  on  such  an  un 
pleasant  business,"  continued  Mr.  Caleb,  wav 
ing  his  hand  stiffly  before  the  still  vacant  chair. 
But  it's  best  for  all  parties  that  the  investigation 
should  be  made  at  once.  Do  you  know — to  come 
to  the  point — any  thing  of  a  robe,  No.  297,  brought 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  31 

from  the  wholesale  department  on  the  27th  of 
last  month  ? " 

"  Sir  ? "  said  the  bewildered  Margaret,  not 
comprehending  the  insinuated  charge  against  her. 

"  A  robe  a  volant"  said  Mr.  Caleb,  with  a 
decidedly  English  accent,  and  referring  to  the 
memorandum  before  him.  No.  297,  A.  X. ;  three 
flounces,  in  oriental  scroll  pattern  blue  and 
silver." 

Margaret  remembered  it  perfectly  well.  It 
was  in  Ellen  Boyne's  hands  at  the  time  it  was 
shown  her ;  and  Adelaide  Long  took  it  from  her, 
and  held  it  up  in  all  lights,  saying  how  very  be 
coming  it  would  be  to  Mrs.  John  Thompson,  a 
leader  in  fashionable  society,  a  blonde  beauty. 
Miss  Adelaide  flattered  herself  that  she  bore  a 
strong  resemblance  to  her.. 

Mr.  Caleb  drew  off  his  spectacles,  and  re 
placed  them  in  his  red  morroco  case,  as  he  silently 
awaited  Margaret's  answer. 

"  I  have  seen  the  dress — I  recollect  it,"  faltered 
Margaret,  beginning  to  comprehend  that  the 
robe  was  missing,  and  suspicion  was  directed 
towards  her ;  and  conscious  at  the  same  time, 
that  Mr.  Churchill  had  turned,  and  was  listening 


32  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

to  her  answer.  She  felt  his  full,  penetrating  eyes 
as  they  were  fixed  on  her  face,  and  the  quick 
color  rushed  to  her  cheek  and  forehead. 

"  Ah,  you  recollect  it,"  and  Mr.  Caleb  made  a 
note  on  the  back  of  the  memorandum.  "  It  was 
on  or  near  the  27th  that  you  saw  it,  that  was 
Friday,  two  weeks  ago  Friday." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  that  was  the  day  ;  it  was  sent  for 
to  show  Mrs.  Ashton." 

"  Precisely.     Now  when  did  you  see  it  last." 

Mr.  Caleb  took  great  credit  to  himself,  for  the 
framing  of  this  inquiry  ;  he  expected  it  to  startle 
forth  an  instant  confession,  or  an  involved  reply 
that  would  settle  the  matter  as  easily. 

But  Margaret  said  nothing  for  a  moment ;  she 
was  trying  in  vain  to  recollect ;  all  was  confusion 
and  shame.  At  any  other  time,  she  would  have 
borne  the  examination  and  answered  quietly,  but 
disturbed  as  she  had  been  all  the  morning,  self- 
control  deserted  her.  She  did  not  resent  the 
implied  accusation,  but  it  stung  her,  and  the  pres 
ence  of  Mr.  Churchill,  seldom  consulted  in  the 
details  of  the  establishment,  made  it  doubly 
humiliating. 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Caleb,  I  do  not  know  ;  I  cannot 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  33 

- 

tell ;  I  do  not  believe  that  I  have  seen  it  since 
that  day." 

"  Yes,  or  no,  Miss  Grant,  if  you  please.  Have 
you  seen  it  since  or  not  ?  It  is  highly  important 
that  we  should  be  precise  and  definite.  The  box 
is  gone,  not  without  hands." 

When  was  Mr.  Caleb  any  thing  but  "  precise  " 
and  "  definite  "  ?  Margaret  looked  up  at  him  as 
he  spoke,  sitting  there  almost  as  rigid  as  the  iron 
form  of  his  counting-house  chair.  Mr.  Churchill 
was  still  listening :  it  recalled  her  to  herself,  as  she 
noticed  this. 

"I  have  not  seen  the  silk,"  she  said  more 
firmly  than  she  had  yet  spoken,  and  choking 
down  the  sobs  of  womanly  shame  and  morti 
fication  that  she  felt  rising  up  within  her.  "I 
Know  nothing  of  it  since  that  day.  I  have  nothing 
more  to  say." 

"  You  may  go,"  said  Mr.  Caleb,  glancing  up 
at  his  partner  to  see  if  he  had  any  inquiry  to 
make ;  "  and  be  so  good  as  not  to  mention  to  any 
one  the  subject  of  our  present  conversation." 

There  was  not  the  slightest  variation  of  voice 
or  feature  as  he  spoke.  ]STo  one  could  have  told 

whether  he  was  dismissing  a  convicted  criminal, 
2* 


34:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

or  a  person  in  whose  innocence  lie  had  always 
held  an  unshaken  faith.  Margaret  turned,  still 
proudly  as  she  had  last  spoken,  but  with  a 
cruel  sense  of  injustice  and  shame,  which  no  con 
cealment  could  crush. 

Mr.  Churchill  stepped  quickly  before  her,  and 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  lock.  Mr.  Caleb  coughed, 
and  turned  the  chair  with  a  warning  creak ;  but 
both  signals  were  unheeded  by  the  younger  man. 
He  met  Margaret's  almost  defiant  look  with  one 
so  kind,  so  troubled,  that  her  resolution  almost 
failed  her. 

"I  wish  you  to  understand,  before  you  go, 
Miss  Grant,  that  Mr.  Choate  makes  no  distinct 
charge  against  you,  and  that  it  was  not  my  wish 
to  have  you  questioned.  You  will  believe  me 
when  I  say  that  I  never  have  for  a  moment 
supposed  that  you  were  implicated  in  this  un 
happy  affair." 

He  even  held  out  his  hand  in  his  eagerness  to 
reassure  her,  as  if  he  wished  to  convince  her  by  a 
departure  from  his  usual  reserve.  It  was  very 
kind  in  him,  almost  brotherly.  Margaret  felt  it 
to  be,  and  wished  that  she  had  a  brother  could 
resent  this  accusation,  and  have  her  innocence 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  35 

fully  established  at  once.  She  longed  to  take  the 
hand  so  frankly  extended,  and  thank  him ;  but 
the  distance  between  them  was  too  great.  She 
remembered  it,  if  he  did  not ;  but  she  looked  up 
once  more  to  show  him  that  she  was  not  ungrate 
ful  for  his  sympathy,  and  met  his  kindly  glance 
now  with  quivering  lips  and  eyes  full  of  hot, 
blinding  tears. 


36  LOSS   AND   GAIN  ;   OK, 


OHAPTEE  III. 

POOR  little  Susie !  She  fully  intended,  when 
Margaret  left  her,  to  be  veiy  good  all  day,  and 
try  to  please  the  dearest  and  best  sister  in  the 
world.  But  every  thing  seemed  against  her.  The 
fire,  after  its  treacherous  promises,  would  not  go 
on  burning,  but  fell  apart,  and  smoked  sullenly 
at  her  attempts  to  revive  it  again.  The  children 
made  their  appearance  in  the  midst  of  her  efforts, 
both  clamoring  to  be  dressed  at  once,  and  so 
wakened  the  baby,  who  declined  every  invitation 
to  be  quiet  and  amuse  itself  on  the  floor,  while 
she  washed  the  dirty  little  faces  and  forced  the 
stiff  brass  buttons  of  jackets  and  trousers  through 
button-holes  that  never  were  made  large  enough  ; 
Susie  almost  thought  it  was  done  purppsely. 

Then  came  a  search  for  "Washington's  shoe, 
carrying  about  the  baby  who  would  not  be  put 
off  another  moment,  as  she  looked ;  and  when  it 


MAUGAKET'S  HOME.  37 

was  at  length,  found  under  the  bed  where  it  had 
fallen  when  "shied"  at  his  brother  the  night 
before,  the  string  was  in  a  hard  knot  which 
resisted  alike  the  eiforts  of  teeth  and  her  still 
benumbed  fingers. 

Of  course  there  were  no  preparations  for  break 
fast,  and  she  was  blamed  for  it  all,  when  Mrs. 
Grant  made  her  appearance  cap  in  hand,  and 
her  untidy  dress  not  yet  fastened.  She  had 
evidently  stepped  out  of  bed  after  that  fashion 
graphically  described  as  "  the  wrong  way,"  and 
her  ill-humor  continued  to  vent  itself  the  whole 
morning — on  her  husband,  for  not  bringing  wash- 
water  from  the  court  hydrant,  unbidden  ;  on  the 
children,  for  getting  under  foot  and  running  the 
perpetual  risk  of  being  scalded  by  boiling  suds ; 
and  on  Susie,  for  every  one  of  these  offences, 
with  numberless  other  accusations,  especially  her 
own. 

How  Susie '  hated  washing-days,  with  their 
slop,  and  steam,  and  general  discomfort !  How 
she  vowed  to  herself,  as  she  dragged  the  baby 
along  on  one  arm,  and  a  pail  of  rinsing  water  on 
the  other,  that,  if  ever  she  grew  up  and  was 
married,  she  would  never  have  a  thing  washed 


38  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

from  one  year's  end  to  the  other,  though  she 
would  never  marry,  for  that  matter,  if  children 
were  always  as  cross  as  her  three  little  brothers ; 
and  then  she  subsided  into  her  Utopia  again,  a 
lovely  room,  in  which  Margaret  and  herself  lived 
all  alone  together,  always  as  neat  and  tidy  as  old 
Ruth's,  with  a  little  stove  which  made  it  warm 
and  comfortable  even  in  the  night,  when  her  side 
kept  her  awake.  She  would  have  plenty  of  books, 
all  story-books  too,  not  such  stupid  dry  things  as 
Margaret  liked.  There  was  one  vague  ambition 
that  could  not  shape  itself,  it  was  too  high  for 
even  Susie's  soaring  imagination  to  make  reality 
— the  power  of  fit  utterance  to  the  wild  passionate 
music  in  her  heart,  to  wake  those  thrilling  surges 
of  sound  which  she  heard  in  the  Sunday  service 
roll  though  the  old  church,  with  the  deep  chorus 
of  "  men  and  women  singers." 

Church  music  was  all  that  Susie  had  ever 
heard,  and  she  learned  the  hymns  and  anthems 
with  scarcely  an  effort  at  remembrance.  Above 
all,  she  loved  the  plaintive  minors  of  the  Lenten 
season ;  and  it  was  a  strange  thing  to  hear  the 
fine  old  melodies  of  Purcell  or  Handel  sung  at 
the  door  of  a  miserable  dwelling,  to  hush  a  fretful 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  39 

child,  instead  of  the  time  worn-lullabies  of  nurses, 
or  the  still  more  unmeaning  songs  of  the  people. 
But  Susie  often  sung  away  her  care  and  loneliness 
watching  for  Margaret  in  the  dusky,  ill-lighted 
street,  until  rudely  recalled  to  harsher  discords  than 
any  her  true  ear  had  ever  known,  which  jarred 
all  the  more  unpleasantly  for  the  spirit  of  the 
twilight  and  the  song. 

The  baby,  called  Leander  after  some  favorite 
hero  of  romance,  for  Mrs.  Grant  had  been  a  great 
novel-reader  in  her  day,  did  condescend  to  take  a 
nap  in  the  afternoon ;  and  was  deposited  in  his 
wooden  cradle,  with  a  sigh  of  relief  by  his  weary 
little  nurse. 

Now,  she  thought  to  creep  away  to  their  own 
room,  where  she  could  wrap  her  cloak  around  her, 
and  read  a  little  while  in  peace  before  it  was  quite 
dark.  But  Mrs.  Grant,  preparing  to  wash  up  the 
kitchen  floor,  was  not  unobservant.  "  Su-san  !  " 
she  called  after  the  child  in  her  shrillest  voice, 
''  where's  the  boys  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

Susie  sat  down  on  the  stairs  as  she  said  it, 
with  a  rebellious  rising  of  the  will  she  did  not  try 
to  check. 


4:0  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  Well,  suppose  you  find  out,  then.  I  can't  go 
and  hunt  'em  up  ;  and  it's  high  time  they  were 
in." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  not  to  stir  a  step," 
thought  Susie.  "  I've  been  running  every  minute 
to-day ;  and  it's  so  slippery  and  cold  !  I  don't 
care  if  she  does  punish  me.  They  always  run 
around  the  corner  the  minute  they  see  me  coming ; 
and  I  have  to  chase  after  them.  But  I  suppose 
I  must.  Oh,  good  !  I'll  go  and  see  Euth  a  little 
while,  and  get  warm." 

"  Susan !  "  called  Mrs.  Grant  again,  "  you'd 
better  not  have  me  come  after  you,  if  you  know 
what's  good  for  yourself." 

The  child  waited  for  no  further  summons,  but 
snatched  up  her  hood,  and  dodged  the  box  on  the 
ear,  which  past  experience  taught  her  to  expect, 
as  she  went  through  the  kitchen. 

The  pavement  was  very  slippery,  for  nearly 
every  one  in  the  court  had  been  washing  as  well 
as  Mrs.  Grant ;  and  the  way  to  the  hydrant  that 
supplied  them  all  with  water  was  marked  by  icy 
glares,  the  splashes  of  the  water-pails  freezing  as 
they  fell.  The  wind  whirled  up  clouds  of  dust  from 
the  ash-heap,  and  rattled  the  tin  signs  of  the  shoe- 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  41 

maker  and  tailoress,  who  pursued  their  avocation 
in  this  out-of-the-way  locality. 

Mrs.  Norton,  or  "  old  Ruth,"  as  almost  every 
one  called  her,  lived  still  within  a  court,  which 
was  only  a  narrow  alley-way  arched  over  be 
tween  two  houses ;  but,  when  this  was  passed, 
no  visitor  could  regret  that  it  was  so  shut  off 
from  the  confusion  and  filth  of  the  outer  street. 
The  whole  space  in  front  of  the  one-story  wooden 
tenement,  in  which  she  had  a  life-interest,  was 
scarcely  ten  feet  square ;  yet  under  the  window 
was  a  little  flower-border,  where  roses  and  sweet- 
williams  consented  to  grow  in  summer,  more  in 
gratitude  for  Ruth's  constant  attendance  than  for 
any  sunshine  streaming  over  the  sloping,  dilapi 
dated  roofs  that  shut  them  in.  In  winter,  only, 
the  flat  door-step,  and  the  neatness  of  the  old- 
fashioned,  uneven  stone  flagging,  gave  evidence 
of  Ruth's  open-air  industry. 

The  door  opened  directly  into  the  principal 
room  of  the  dwelling.  There  had  been,  originally, 
no  division ;  but  Ruth's  ideas  of  propriety  had 
suggested  the  partitioning  off  of  one  corner  as  a 
bed-chamber,  which  gave  the  outer  apartment  an 
odd,  triangular  shape.  Here  she  sat  at  her  work 


42  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

all  day  long,  always  contented  and  cheerful,  not 
withstanding  a  life  marked  by  many  losses  and 
crosses,  glancing  up  now  and  then,  by  way  of 
refreshment,  at  the  roses  blossoming  on  the 
window-ledge.  She  had  always  wanted  a  bird  to 
make  up  her  companionship ;  but  the  time  had 
not  yet  come  that  she  could  afford  to  keep  one. 
"  Not  while  there  are  so  many  hungry  mouths  to 
feed  in  the  neigborhood,"  she  was  just  saying,  as 
Susie,  sure  of  her  welcome,  opened  the  door 
rather  unceremoniously.  "  But  flowers  don't  eat 
anything." 

The  child  was  abashed  to  find  herself  face  to 
face  with  a  tall,  handsomely-dressed  lady,  who 
was  admiring  the  healthy-looking  plants.  She 
would  have  retreated  immediately,  if  Ruth  had 
not  called  to  her  to  come  in,  while  the  lady  herself 
smiled  pleasantly,  and  asked  if  this  was  a  grand 
child. 

"  Oh  no,  Miss  Agnes  !  "  said  Ruth,  quickly. 
"  She  was  all  I  had.  That  was  what  made  it  so 
hard  when  she  came  to  give  up,  and  settle  down 
with  the  cough,  just  as  her  father  did  before  her. 
I  never  can  forget  your  goodness,  coming  to  see 
her  to  the  last,  or  how  she  always  took  to  you, 
poor  dear !  " 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  43 

Ruth,  after  the  fashion  of  her  class,  raised  the 
corner  of  her  clean  gingham  apron  to  her  eyes, 
those  clear,  soft  eyes,  to  which  tears  sprang  so 
quickly,  though  they  never  stayed  there  long. 

The  lady's  face  looked  graver ;  and  Susie  knew 
that  they  were  talking  of  Ruth's  daughter,  who 
had  died  three  years  before. 

"  I  can  see  just  how  she  used  to  lean  back  in 
that  very  chair  by  the  window,  watching  for  you 
afternoons,  just  as  calm  as  a  baby,  I  might  say, 
though  I  was  ready  to  cry  every  time  I  looked  at 
her.  Her  hands  were  so  thin  !  and  they  used  to 
be  such  busy  hands,  too,  for  me  and  everybody  ; 
and  her  cheeks  as  pink  as  the  ribbons  in  your 
bonnet,  Miss  Agnes.  So  was  her  father's,  always, 
from  the  time  he  took  to  the  house." 

"  She  had  a  very  lovely  face,"  the  lady  said,  in 
the  pause. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  so  she  had,  though  I  say  it, 
more  and  more  so,  till  she  was  laid  in  her  coffin. 
But  I  don't  rebel,  Miss  Agnes !  I  don't  rebel ! 
She  taught  me  'twas  wicked  and  sinful ;  and  I 
can  never  forget  that  it  was  you  who  made  her 
understand  it  all,  and  grow  so  patient,  while  her 
poor  father  fretted  against  his  sickness  till  the 


4A  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

day  of  Ms  death.  But  it's  hard  for  a  poor  man 
to  know  he's  going  to  leave  his  wife  and  his  baby- 
without  a  house  nor  a  home, — only  the  Lord  pro 
vided  that  when  he  wasn't  here  to  see  it,"  Ruth 
added,  as  if  fearful  that  she  had  thrown  some 
faint  shadow  on  the  memory  she  still  cherished  so 
sacredly. 

"  Yes ;  I  can  understand  it,"  her  visitor  said, 
gently.  "  The  rich  are  spared  that  bitterness  in 
death ;  but  they  have  their  own  trials  of  faith, 
Mrs.  Norton.  God  apportions  the  joys  and 
sorrows  of  life  far  more  equally  than  we  often 
think." 

"  She  used  to  say :  '  Miss  Agnes  will  have 
her  reward,  mother,  for  giving  up  her  time  to  us 
poor  girls — and  coming  to  read  to  her,  as  you 
did,  hour  after  hour,  all  the  same  whether  it  was 
pleasant  or  stormy — walking,  too." 

"  I  have  had  my  reward,"  the  lady  said, 
earnestly,  and  quickly,  too,  as  if  she  did  not  like 
to  listen  to  her  own  praise,  "  knowing  that  I  was 
a  comfort  to  Mary,  and  that  she  left  you  the 
precious  legacy  of  her  clear,  undoubting  faith. 
I  've  given  up  the  Bible  class,* though — did  I  tell 
you? — and  am  teaching  little  people  again.  I 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  45 

wonder  if  this  young  neighbor  of  yours  would  not 
like  to  join  us  ?  or  do  you  go  to  Sunday-school 
already  ? " 

"  Susie,  her  name  is,"  said  Ruth,  by  way  of 
introduction,  as  the  child  showed  a  disposition  to 
slide  still  further  behind  her  old  friend,  and  vanish 
altogether  out  of  sight  on  the  first  opportunity. 
"  Can't  you  speak  to  the  lady,  Susie  ?  A 
neighbor's  child,  ma'am.  Her  mother  always 
went  to  St.  Peter's  church ;  and  'twas  she  that 
first  talked  to  me  about  sending  Mary  to  Sunday- 
school,  when  she  was  no  bigger  than  Susie  there." 

"  And  how  is  it  that  she  does  not  send  her  own 
children  ?  I  don't  think  I  remember  Miss  Susie's 
face,  though  she  doesn't  intend  to  let  me  see  it 
very  plainly,  I  think." 

"  Oh,  she  used  to  send  Margaret — the  other 
one — always,  ma'am ;  but  that  was  before  your 
day,  Miss  Agnes.  You  never  saw  her  sister,  did 
you  ?  though  she  was  a  great  comfort — next  to 
you  and  Mr.  Ogden — to  my  poor  girl,  Mary — she 
used  to  say  he  was  a  minister,  that  followed  his 
Master  in  looking  after  the  poor  and  the  sick,  if 
there  ever  was  one.  But  Susie's  sister  had  to 
stay  at  home — I  was  going  to  tell  you — after 


46  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

awhile,  to  take  care  of  this  one ;  and,  when  you 
used  to  come  here  so  much,  she  never  had  a 
minute  in  the  week-days  to  herself." 

"  So  her  sister  used  to  come  to  Sunday-school, 
did  she  ?  and  what's  to  hinder  Susie  from  com 
ing  now  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  say,  Miss."  And  Buth  shook 
her  head,  in  a  manner  that  would  not  have  been 
very  complimentary  to  the  present  Mrs.  Grant, 
if  understood. 

"  Should  you  like  to  come  ?"  And  the  lady 
turned  to  Susie  again. 

The  child,  whose  quick  sympathies  had  already 
gone  out  to  the  gentle-looking  woman,  glanced  up 
eagerly,  her  large  eyes  expressing  all  that  her 
timidity  would  not  allow  her  to  "say. 

"  Oh,  if  she  would  only  let  me ! " 

"  Her  stepmother,"  Ruth  said,  in  explanation. 
"  Her  father  is  married  again.  I'm  afraid  Mrs. 
Grant  won't  think  she  can  'spare  her." 

"  "Well,  suppose  I  come  and  see  your  mother 
some  day  when  I  am  in  the  neighborhood  ?  Shall 
I,  Susie,  and  ask  her  to  let  you  be  one  of  my  little 
people  ?  "  Miss  Agnes  said,  rising  to  go. 

1 '  If  you  please  ! ' '    And  Susie  thought  that  even 


MARGARETS  HOME.  47 

Mrs.  Grant  could  not  refuse  a  request  to  one  who 
smiled  so  pleasantly,  and  had  such  a  gentle  voice 
— though  a  doubt,  which  she  would  not  listen  to, 
spoke,  at  the  same  time,  way  down  at  the  bottom 
of  her  heart. 

Ruth  was  more  cheery,  many  a  day,  for  that 
visit  ;  and  the  lady  herself  went  on  her  way, 
scarcely  heeding  how  far  from  home  she  was,  and 
how  rapidly  night  was  falling,  in  her  thankfulness 
that  she  had  summoned  up  resolution  to  go  in  such 
inclement  weather  among  the  poor  and  desolate, 
speaking  to  them  of  the  Friend  who  has  commend 
ed  all  such  to  "  the  rich  and  increased  in  goods." 
Pity  it  is  that  so  few  among  them  remember  the 
loving  charge ! 

As  for  Susie,  whatever  she  had  intended  to  say 
to  her  old  friend,  there  was  no  time  for  it  now. 
She  suddenly  remembered  her  errand  abroad,  and 
that  it  was  almost  dark,  with  Mrs.  Grant's  stray 
lambs  still  unsought. 

Washington  was  rescued  from  a  corner  fight 
with  boys  much  larger  than  himself,  who  had  torn 
his  apron,  and  bruised  his  face,  from  bad  general 
ship  on  his  part,  unworthy  of  the  name  he  bore. 

Alonzo,  generally  called  "  Al,"  gave  less  trou- 


4:8  .LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

ble  in  the  capture,  being  engaged  with  other  urch 
ins,  nearer  home,  in  sliding  around  the  hydrant, 
his  little  cold  hands  thrust  into  the  pockets  of  his 
ragged  trowsers,  and  his  cap  pulled  down  as  far 
as  possible,  to  shield  the  tip  of  his  round  red  nose. 
He  had  had  a  very  nice  time ;  but  now  his  feet 
were  chilled,  and  his  hands  ached  ;  so  he  was  just 
ready  to  be  as  cross  and  sleepy  as  possible  the 
instant  he  got  into  the  warm  kitchen. 

Susie  toiled  between  her  two  unsatisfied  little 
taskmasters,  until  they  were  fairly  in  bed,  too 
thankful  to  escape  the  scolding  for  her  long  ab 
sence,  which  she  expected  every  moment  from 
their  mother,  to  remonstrate  with  them. 

This  had  been  her  daily  life  since  the  new 
household  rule  began — not  an  hour  in  the  twenty- 
four  given  her  for  study  or  play ;  and  this  it  would 
probably  continue,  until  she  should  be  old  enough 
to  learn  the  threatened  trade,  still  more  hateful, 
in  prospect. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  49 


CHAPTER   IV. 

"  SHE  was  lovely,  sister,"  said  Susie,  enthusias 
tically,  from  her  ark  of  refuge,  the  bed — "  almost 
as  pretty  as  you  are." 

She  had  been  trying  to  describe  Ruth's  visitor, 
and  her  kind  way  of  speaking  and  looking  at  her ; 
but  she  thought  Margaret  was  not  nearly  as  much 
interested  as  she  had  expected  her  to  be  ;  but  she 
tried  not  to  feel  hurt,  because  "  maybe  Margaret 
had  a  headache.  She  often  did  have,  in  the  busy 
season,  when  night  came." 

"Was  she?"  said  the  elder  sister,  absently, 
evidently  not  having  appreciated  the  compliment 
ary  remark  of  her  one  admirer. 

"  And  she  promised  to  come  and  ask  mother 
to  let  me  go  to  Sunday-school.  Do  you  think  she 
will  ?  Mother — I  should  think  she  might." 

"  I  would  not  think  too  much  of  it." 

Margaret  made  a  determined  effort  to  lay  aside 
3 


50  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

the  troubles  of  the  day,  and  enter  into  Susie's 
plans. 

"  What  is  it  like,  sister  ?  Ruth  told  her  you 
used  to  go.  It  must  be  real  nice  to  sing  and  say 
hymns  with  so  many  other  little  girls.  I  never 
did  know  many  little  girls.  'Most  everybody  else 
does.  "Why  don't  you  ever  let  me,  Margaret  ? " 

Susie's  anticipations  had  made  her  talkative. 

"  Because  there  are  so  many  bad  children  play 
ing  about  the  streets  ;  and  I  was  afraid  you  would 
learn  their  ways,  if  I  let  you  play  with  them,  and 
to  say  their  coarse,  rude  words,  such  things  as  the 
boys  say  sometimes,  and  worse." 

"  It 's  a  great  while  to  wait  till  some  day ;  isn't 
it,  sister  ? " 

Susie  was  perfectly  satisfied  with  the  expla 
nation.  It  was  the  plan  their  own  mother  had 
followed  with  Margaret,  when  poverty  forced  them 
into  closer  contact  with  sin  and  ignorance,  in  turn 
pursued  by  her,  with  Susie.  It  had  preserved 
the  innate  ladyhood  and  refinement  of  character 
which  the  first  Mrs.  Grant  prized  next  to  her  faith, 
and  which,  in  her,  sprang  from  it,  as  she  learned 
to  follow  "  whatsoever  is  lovely,  and  pure,  and  of 
good  report.' 


MAEGAEET'S  HOME.  51 

"  Suppose  I  ask  for  you,"  said  Margaret,  "  in 
the  morning,  if  she  is  pretty  good-natured  ?  Shall 
I  ?  That  would  be  better  than  worrying  about  it 
two  or  three  weeks,  I  think  ;  and  then,  if  she  says 
'  no,'  why,  you  can  put  it  out  of  your  mind  at  once ; 
and  it  won't  be  quite  such  a  great  disappointment." 

"  Oh,  I  should  think  she  might !  just  once  a 
day.  I  wouldn't  ask  to  go  twice."  And  Susie's 
tone  plainly  showed  that  refusal  would  be  a  great 
disappointment,  come  when  it  might.  "  She  never 
lets  me  go  to  church  any  more,  or  only  once  in 
such  a  great  while.  I  always  thought  the  children 
looked  so  nice  coming  across  the  churchyard,  two 
and  two,  with  their  teachers  walking  before  them." 
And  the  small  procession  flitted  before  Susie's 
imagination,  as  it  had  done  many  a  time  that 
evening ;  and  she  heard  the  patter  of  little  feet 
crossing  the  marble  pavement  of  the  chancel,  and 
pictured  herself  close  under  the  protection  of  her 
new  friend,  and  holding  some  good  little  girl,  Mar 
garet  would  not  be  afraid  of,  tightly  by  the  hand. 

Margaret  saw  that  she  was  growing  restless 
and  excited. 

"  It 's  high  time  you  were  going  to  sleep,  young 
lady.  I'm  almost  through  this  great  darn  that 


52  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

spoiled  our  story  to-night.  See !  I  have  a  very 
nice  plan.  Don't  you  know  she  did  promise  that 
you  could  come  up  to  the  store,  some  day,  for  me? 
and  she  can't  very  well  say  '  no '  to  both  things  at 
once.  So,  if  she  won't  say  '  Sunday-school,'  I  '11 
ask  for  a  holiday  in  the  afternoon.  That  will  be 
some  comfort ;  won't  it  ?  " 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  next  room,  showing 
that  some  one  was  still  busy  there,  and  a  light  was 
shining  through  the  crevice  of  the  ill-fitting  door. 
The  sisters  were  evidently  accustomed  to  it,  for 
neither  remarked  upon  the  monotonous  sound  of 
alternate  filing,  and  tapping,  varied  by  the  sharp 
click,  as  of  some  fine  machinery,  now  and  then. 
But,  just  as  Susie  turned,  for  the  twentieth  time, 
away  from  the  light,  Mr.  Grant  himself  looked 
hurriedly  in,  shading  his  eyes,  as  if  the  lamp  was 
too  bright  for  him,  or  from  habit  while  at  his  daily 
occupation. 

"  I  thought  I  heard  you  up  yet,  Margaret ; 
just  step  in  here  one  minute.  I  've  certainly  found 
out  the  trouble  at  last.  Come  and  see  how  smooth 
ly  it  works." 

This  was  nothing  new,  either.  Her  father  had 
been  at  work  upon  the  model  of  some  new  motive- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  53 

power  almost  ever  since  Margaret  could  remember ; 
and  she  had  been  called  on  to  sympathize  with 
wonderful  discoveries  and  disastrous  failures  until 
she  had  come  to  have  very  little  faith,  or  even 
interest,  in  Mr.  Grant's  absorbing  occupation. 
Her  mother  had  filled  the  post  before  her,  more 
patiently,  but  with  just  as  little  hope  of  any  good 
resulting  from  it.  The  present  Mrs.  Grant  made 
no  scruple  of  declaring  that  "  it  was  a  shameful 
waste  of  time  and  money ;  and  he  had  better  stick 
to  his  business." 

The  room  which  had  seen  such  alternation  of 
hope  and  despondency  was  smaller  than  Marga 
ret's,  scarcely  more  than  a  light  closet.  There  was 
a  little  stove  in  the  centre,  the  rusty  grate  showing 
how  rarely  it  was  used.  A  work-bench,  or  table, 
was  fitted  beneath  the  window ;  and  the  well-worn 
leather-covered  stool  before  it  was  the  only  other 
article  of  furniture.  Mr.  Grant  brushed  away  the 
implements  scattered  upon  the  bench ;  and  Mar 
garet  noticed,  as  he  did  so,  an  untouched  order  in 
his  regular  business  as  repairer  and  maker  of 
watches,  which  she  knew  he  had  received  more 
than  a  week  before.  As  he  lifted  the  shade  of  the 
spirit-lamp,  the  strong  light  flashed  full  upon  his 


54:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

wan  face  and  thin  gray  hair ;  while  his  sunken 
eyes  burned  with  the  fire  of  a  confirmed  enthusiast, 
scarcely  less  than  the  glare  of  a  monomaniac,  in 
the  intensity  of  the  moment's  excitement. 

"  See,"  he  said,  touching  a  small  brass  model, 
a  complication  of  wheels  and  levers,  almost  as 
delicate  as  the  mechanism  of  a  watch,  and  far  more 
intricate ;  "  it  works  without  that  catch  now ;  that 
was  all  that  was  wanting ;  they  said  so  when  it 
was  returned  from  the  patent  office.  See  !  quick, 
Margaret,  it  does  not  even  shiver,  it  works  so 
smoothly.  See  !  see !  " 

Click  !  click  !  sounded  the  whirring  wheels,  as 
the  delicate  machinery  sped  across  the  table  as  if 
attracted  by  a  magnet,  then  back  again  as  rapidly, 
without  any  apparent  jar,  to  its  eager  inventor, 
who  caught  it  up,  and  could  have  kissed  it,  as  he 
turned  triumphantly  to  Margaret. 

"  There !  It's  done  at  last.  It's  the  work  of 
more  years  than  you  are  old,  child  ;  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  discoveries  man  ever  made ;  the 
steam-engine  would  always  have  been  incomplete 
without  it ;  Adams  allowed  that,  and  Dunlap  has 
pledged  himself  to  get  the  patent  through  as  soon 
as  I  could  manage  that  halt.  Don't  you  see,  it's 


MAEGAEET'S  HOME.  55 

all  done  away  with?  don't  you  see?"  he  asked 
again  impatiently,  eager  for  new  confirmation. 

Margaret  tried  to  understand  the  oft  reiterated 
explanation  of  conflicting  forces  and  mechanical 
laws,  that  were  still  a  dead  letter  to  her,  while  her 
father  poured  forth  his  triumphant  review  of  ob 
stacles  encountered  and  overcome,  and  the  grand 
results,  fame  and  fortune,  that  were  within  his 
grasp.  She  would  gladly  have  been  less  unbe 
lieving,  but  she  knew  how  many  years  had  already 
been  wasted,  what  sums  of  money  wrung  from  the 
necessities  of  the  family  had  been  swallowed  up  in 
these  endless  experiments.  She  would  have  been 
still  more  heavy-hearted,  as  she  looked  into  that 
worn,  eager  face,  if  she  had  known,  as  he  did,  how 
nearly  he  had  exhausted  the  patience  and  support 
of  the  gentlemen  he  had  named,  who  had  been 
induced  to  assist  him  by  his  own  unbounded  con 
fidence  of  ultimate  success. 

It  was  a  story  as  old  as  the  struggle  of  human 
ingenuity  with  the  great  mechanical  problems 
which  some  have  conquered,  but  by  far  the  greater 
number  are  mocked  by,  while  time,  and  means, 
and  life  are  madly  squandered,  even  reason  at  last 
being  added  to  the  sacrifice. 


56  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  Yes,  father,"  Margaret  said,  in  his  first  pause 
of  expectancy ;  he  would  have  told  it  all  to  the 
very  walls,  if  there  had  been  no  other  listener,  in 
his  feverish  excitement. 

"  But  you  don't  see,  you  won't  understand"  he 
cried  out,  dashing  down  the  graver  with  which  he 
had  been  explaining  his  final  success.  "  Nobody 
will  !  they  let  Fulton  starve,  and  many  a  better 
man  go  mad,  with  their  blind  stupidity!  you're 
like  aU  the  rest !  " 

"  But,  father,"  said  Margaret  soothingly,  and 
laying  her  hand  on  his  arm,  "  you  cannot  expect 
me  really  to  understand  it  as  you  or  Mr.  Dunlap 
does ;  it  seems  to  run  just  as  smoothly  as  possible, 
without  that  jerking  motion  it  used  to  have." 

"  Does  it  2    That's  the  very  thing !  " 

Mr.  Grant  started  up  again,  catching  at  this 
shadow  of  encouragement.  "  Of  course  they'll 
see  it,  anybody  would,  with  half  an  eye,  and  I 
can  have  the  drawings  ready  to  send  to  the  patent 
office  in  two  days.  If  I  only  could  get  them  to 
advance  me  something  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together,  with  such  a  fortune  as  that,  in  another 
month,  too.  You  couldn't  let  me  have  a  dollar  or 
so,  could  you,  Margaret  ? " 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  57 

The  change  from  the  high  proud  tone  of  con 
scious  triumph,  to  the  hesitating  request  preferred 
so  often  before,  and  now  in  the  half  wheedling 
tone  of  one  accustomed  to  sue  for  favors  at  the 
risk  of  refusal,  pained  Margaret  more  than  her 
anticipation  of  a  fresh  disappointment  for  him. 
By  this  loving  and  faithful  daughter  he  had  never 
been  refused,  even  to  the  last  coin  hoarded  for 
some  pressing  personal  need.  She  drew  out  her 
purse,  now,  without  a  word,  and  almost  emptied 
it  into  his  outstretched  hafld  ;  little  enough  there 
was,  it  is  true,  and  she  unconsciously  turned  away 
her  face,  lest  she  should  meet  the  expression  she 
knew  was  in  his  own,  half  shame,  half  covetous. 
It  was  one  of  those  changes  in  him,  over  which 
she  had  silent  heart-aches,  the  reverse  of  his  nat 
urally  generous  and  open  nature. 

"  Good-night,  sir,"  she  said,  yielding  him  the 
homage  of  dutiful  respect  nevertheless  ;  and  then 
tried  to  say  playfully,  "I  hope  the  fortune  will 
come  soon,  father  ;  it's  almost  time  Susie  was  sent 
to  school,  if  you  are  going  to  make  a  teacher  of 
her  as  you  promised." 

"  A  lady,  Margaret — ladies  of  you  both,  all  in 

good  time,  all  in  good  time,"  and  Margaret  went 
3* 


58  LOSS   AND   GAIN  ;   OB, 

back  to  find  Susie  still  awake,  excited  by  the  sound 
of  their  voices  ;  and  the  hope,  notwithstanding 
repeated  warnings,  that  Mrs.  Grant  would  allow 
her  both  the  coveted  pleasures.  She  had  tried  to 
"  make  herself  go  to  sleep,"  but  every  invalid 
knows  what  hard  work  this  sometimes  proves, 
when  mind  and  body  are  both  leagued  against 
unconsciousness.  Susie  was  really  an  invalid ; 
though  she  would  not  acknowledge  to  herself,  still 
less  to  Margaret,  how  hot  and  feverish  she  felt,  and 
how  steady  and  sharp-  the  pain  in  her  side  had 
become.  She  knew  it  would  put  an  end  to  all 
expeditions,  and  though  scarcely  able  to  rise  when 
morning  came,  suffered  no  complaint  to  escape 
her  lips. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  59 


CHAPTEE   V. 

CONTRARY  to  her  usual  custom,  and  much  to 
Susie's  joy,  Mrs.  Grant  made  her  appearance  the 
next  morning  before  Margaret  had  finished  her 
solitary  breakfast ;  and  the  important  request  was 
made  at  once.  It  was  received  much  as  Margaret 
had  expected.  Mrs.  Grant  expressed  her  opinion 
that  "  Sunday  schools  were  all  nonsense ; "  and,  if 
she  spared  Susan  to  go  to  church  once  a  day,  it 
was  as  much  as  anybody  ought  to  expect  of  her. 
The  only  day  in  the  week,  too,  when  she  had  five 
minutes  to  herself ! 

As  to  going  to  the  store,  "  it  was  just  as  ridicu 
lous.  What  in  the  world  was  that  child  going  to 
do  all  by  herself  above  the  Exchange  when  she 
was  so  dumb  she  could  scarcely  find  Second  Street 
Market  ?  But,  if  Margaret  chose  to  get  her  into 
a  scrape,  she  could  get  her  out  of  it.  That  was 
all.  She  had  nothing  to  say  about  it.  Their  father 


60  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

never  would  interfere,  but  let  some  people  ride 
over  everybody's  heads." 

So  Margaret  left  her  sister  half  sorrowful,  half 
comforted,  and  carried  with  her  her  own  troubles 
unshared  and  unrelieved.  She  was  wronging  her 
self  ;  but  she  did  not  then  understand  the  secret  of 
laying  down  yesterday's  burden,  and  setting  out  in 
the  strength  of  a  morning  thanksgiving  for  the  bless 
ings  she  could  number  for  the  day.  Old  Ruth, 
watering  her  geraniums,  and  peering  carefully  for 
withered  leaves  or  promising  young  buds,  hum 
ming  away  to  herself  as  she  did  so,  could  have 
taught  her  this,  or  rather  recalled  one  of  her  moth 
er's  earliest  lessons. 

But  we  are  all  thus  inclined  to  suffer  cares  and 
crosses  to  accumulate  before  we  act  upon  the  prac 
tical  wisdom  of  the  proverb,  "  Sufficient  unto  the 
day  is  the  evil  thereof.  " 

"Why,  therefore,  should  we  do  ourselves  this  wrong, 
Or  others,  that  we  are  not  always  strong, 
That  we  are  ever  overborne  with  care, 

That  we  should  ever  weak  or  heartless  be, 

% 

Anxious  or  troubled  when  with  us  in  prayer. 
And  joy,  and  strength,  and  courage  are  with  Thee?  " 

Of  course,  Susie  thought  that  the  clock  had 
stopped,  that  three  o'clock  never  would  come,  that 
the  children  had  never  been  so  troublesome  before. 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  61 

It  was  a  wonderful  experience  to  the  child  who 
had  never  been  in  the  fashionable  quarter  of  the 
city.  Margaret  had  given  her  some  pennies  to 
pay  her  omnibus  fare  as  far  as  the  Exchange,  and 
special  directions  what  streets  to  go  through  after 
she  left  it ;  so  she  started  forth  very  courageously, 
not  at  all  damped  by  Mrs.  Grant's  ungracious 
looks,"  and  speedily  found  her  way  into  Second 
Street  where  she  was  to  take  the  omnibus.  But 
one  after  another  passed ;  and  she  still  stood  on 
the  corner,  unable  to  summon  sufficient  courage 
to  stop  one.  Her  faint  signals  were  disregarded  ; 
and  the  great,  noisy  vehicles  rolled  on,  while  the 
short  afternoon  was  getting  still  shorter. 

Presently,  to  her  dismay,  she  saw  a  great  rough 
boy,  who  had  been  watching  her  as  he  came  along, 
swinging  an  empty  basket  on  his  arm,  halt  directly 
in  front  of  her,  with  a  look  that  made  her  very 
uncomfortable.  The  next  omnibus  had  just  made 
its  appearance  in  the  distance  ;  and  she  had  gone 
out  to  the  very  edge  of  the  curbstone,  resolved 
not  to  be  left  this  time. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  the  boy,  coming 
closer  still.  "  Shall  I  stop  her  for  you  ? " 

Susie  eyed  him  doubtfully  from  under  her 


62  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

hood ;  but  lie  looked  very  good-natured ;  and  she 
nodded  yes,  though  putting  the  lamp-post  between 
them  to  make  assurance  double  sure.  "  How  nice 
it  must  be  not  to  feel  afraid  of  any  thing ! "  she 
thought,  as  the  boy  sang  out :  "  Hulloo  !  stop 
them  gay  horses  of  youm,  and  take  in  this  little 
girl,  old  Six-on-a-side  !  " 

How  could  she  ever  climb  up  that  great*  step  ? 
But  an  old  gentleman  inside  lifted  her  up,  and 
deposited  her  on  a  seat  by  him,  as  if  she  had  been 
no  heavier  than  a  baby. 

The  omnibus  was  full,  as  Second  Street  omni 
buses  always  are  ;  and,  if  it  had  not  been  for  this 
new  protector,  she  might  have  stood  up  all  the 
way.  Three  stout  huckster-women,  with  baskets 
as  portly  as  themselves,  were  going  as  far  as  the 
market,  having  just  come  from  a  Red  Bank  ferry 
boat  with  supplies  for  the  early  opening  of  Wed 
nesday  morning.  They  nodded  to  each  other  over 
their  double  chins,  and  talked  about  the  early 
"  cold  snap,"  and  the  effect  it  wrould  have  on  the 
price  of  butter  and  eggs  at  Christmas.  Then  there 
was  a  pale  man  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  in  a  thread 
bare  overcoat,  and  seeming  in  a  great  hurry  to  get 
to  his  journey's  end.  Every  time  a  passenger 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  63 

showed  a  disposition  to  get  out  or  in,  he  pulled 
the  check-string,  and  asked  the  driver  if  he  "  could 
n't  hurry  up,"  which  of  course  delayed  him  by 
just  so  many  seconds. 

Susie  noted  all  these  things  with  wide-open, 
curious  eyes,  as  young  travellers  are  inclined  to 
scan  all  they  chance  to  meet  with.  She  did  not 
at  all  fancy  the  young  girl  in  a  showy  plaid  dress, 
without  gloves,  and  having  a  great  many  rings  on 
her  hands,  and  an  enormous  brooch,  with  purple 
stones  in  it,  fastening  her  shawl  at  the  throat.  Her 
nearest  neighbor,  who  looked  scarcely  older — 
though  she  held  a  dear  little  baby  all  wrapped  up 
in  a  flannel  blanket  bound  with  pink  ribbon — drew 
herself  away  as  far  as  possible  from  the  plaid  dress, 
and  curls,  and  bold  black  eyes,  and  talked  a  great 
deal  to  a  young  man,  her  husband,  who  seemed 
very  proud  of  her  and  the  baby  too.  Susie  liked 
them  better  than  any  of  the  rest,  excepting  always 
her  protector,  towards  whom  she  nestled  occasion 
ally  to  reassure  herself  in  this  close  contact  with 
so  many  strange  faces.  The  old  gentleman  watched 
them  too,  for  it  was  a  pleasant  thing  to  see  the 
young  mother  pull  down  a  corner  of  the  blanket 
every  now  and  then,  and  look  admiringly  on  the 


64:  LOSS   AND   GAIN;    OE, 

placid  little  face  in  its  thulle-bordered  cap,  then 
up  at  her  husband  with  a  shy,  happy  smile ;  while 
he,  pretending  to  think  her  a  foolish  child,  contrived 
to  get  a  peep  at  the  little  one  himself  on  every 
opportunity. 

So  the  omnibus  rattled  on — past  the  market 
where  the  stout  women  got  out,  and  lifted  their 
baskets  after  them,  to  the  terror  of  the  young  ' 
mother  and  the  danger  of  Susie's  hood,  which  was 
knocked  over  her  eyes  unceremoniously — past 
furniture  warehouses  and  ready-made  clothing 
establishments,  and  finally  swung  round  into  the 
noisy,  clattering  Square  of  the  Exchange. 

The  old  gentleman  did  not  forget  Susie,  but 
paid  her  fare  with  his  own,  just  as  she  began  to 
feel  quite  miserable  at  the  impossibility  of  reaching 
the  driver's  hand,  even  though  she  mounted  a  seat, 
and  stood  on  tiptoe.  She  tendered  the  three  pen 
nies  he  had  advanced  very  gratefully ;  but  he 
bade  her  keep  such  small  change  for  herself,  and 
posted  away  up  "Walnut  Street  as  briskly  as  many 
a  far  younger  man  could  do. 

Susie  wished  he  had  taken  the  same  way  she 
must  pass,  through  the  rabble  of  newsboys  she 
was  destined  to  encounter,  shouting,  "  Evening 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  65 

Bulletin  !  Arrival  of  the  steamer !  "  in  their  shrill, 
locust-like  voices.  A  great  many  gentlemen  were 
hurrying  along  the  narrow  pavement,  scarcely 
looking  to  the  right  or  left ;  and  she  was  almost 
breathless  when  she  turned  the  corner,  and  came 
suddenly  into  Chestnut  Street,  with  its  gay  shops 
and  beautiful  women  sauntering  slowly  along  in 
strange  contrast  to  the  bustle  and  fever  their  hus 
bands  and  fathers  lived  in  from  morning  till  night. 

No  wonder  that  the  child  was  fascinated,  and 
listened,  and  forgot  her  errand,  as  the  bright  pan 
orama  of  shop-windows  seemed  to  stretch  away 
endlessly  ;  while  the  stream  of  passers-by  mingled 
and  swept  past  in  endless  variety  of  light  and 
shade,  confusing,  dazzling,  and  bewildering  her, 
whichever  way  she  looked. 

It  was  growing  dusky  and  very  cold  in  the 
street  before  Susie  could  "  turn  away  her  eyes 
from  beholding  vanities,"  and  hurry  on  towards 
the  more  quiet  vicinity  of  Churchill  &  Choate's. 
She  had  no  idea  that  she  should  find  one  of  those 
great  establishments  that  had  so  fascinated  her,  and 
stood  looking  up  and  down  the  street  for  some  hum 
bler  place  of  trade  at  the  very  threshold  which  Mar 
garet  had  just  left,  after  an  anxious  watch  for  her. 


66  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

There  were  several  handsome  carriages  drawn 
up  to  the  pavement ;  and,  while  she  stood  watch 
ing  the  long,  brilliantly  lighted  vista  within,  and 
thinking  dismally  that  she  must  have  lost  her  way, 
and  what  was  to  become  of  her,  a  still  more  showy 
equipage  stopped  close  beside  her. 

"  Churchill's,  ma'am,"  the  driver  said,  as  he 
opened  the  door,  and  touched  his  hat  respectfully. 

Churchill's !  Why,  so  it  was !  She  could  make 
out  the  great  white  letters  above  the  door  now. 
Oh,  how  handsome  it  was  !  Susie's  heart  gave  a 
great  bound  of  delight,  partly  that  she  had  reached 
her  journey's  end  in  safety,  but  quite  as  much  of 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  that  Margaret  had  such 
a  nice  place  to  stay  in  all  day.  Yet  Margaret 
wasn't  in  the  least  proud. 

All  this  was  suddenly  clouded  by  a  recollection 
that  she  had  still  to  make  her  way  among  all  those 
people,  and  with  such  a  bright  light  right  in  her 
face,  to  Margaret's  counter,  wherever  that  was. 
How  should  she  ever  find  her  ?  There  seemed,  as 
she  looked  in  again  still  more  wistfully,  to  be  two 
or  three  stores  branching  oif  in  all  directions  from 
the  great  high  desk  in  the  middle,  where  the.  odd 
little  man  stood,  counting  out  change,  and  scratch 
ing  away  in  the  great  book  before  him. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  67 

The  lady  swept  past  lier  with,  a  great  rustle  of 
flounces ;  and  with  her  came  a  little  girl  about 
Susie's  age,  though  dressed  almost  as  elaborately 
as  her  mother.  Though  astonished  at  her  magnifi 
cence,  Susie  decided,  from  a  glimpse  at  the  face 
of  this  miniature  fashion-plate,  that  it  was  a  little 
girl ;  and  it  gave  her  courage  to  follow  them  in, 
and  part  way  up  the  centre  of  the  store,  where 
they  suddenly  disappeared  down  one  of  the  branch 
ing  departments,  leaving  her  in  great  doubt  and 
perplexity. 

There  were  several  boys  running  about  with 
slips  of  paper  and  bank-bills  in  their  hands.  She 
ventured  to  speak  to  one  of  them,  ashamed  to  be 
seen  standing  still,  as  if  she  had  no  business  there. 
"  Do  you  know  where  my  sister  is  ? "  And,  faint 
as  the  voice  was,  the  sound  of  it  frightened  her 
still  more. 

The  youngster  looked  at  her  curiously  for  a 
minute,  and  then  brushed  roughly  by,  saying: 
"  How  do  I  know  who  your  sister  is  ?  " 

He  was  much  better  dressed ;  but  Susie  prefer 
red  her  friend  of  the  market-basket. 

The  little  scene  had,  however,  attracted  the 
attention  of  a  tall  young  man,  who  walked  up  to 


68  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

her,  making  a  most  profound  bow.  Susie  instantly 
thought  it  must  be  Mr.  Churchill  himself ;  he  had 
such  shining  black  hair,  such  superb  whiskers ;  and 
his  hand,  ornamented  with  a  large  seal  ring,  looked 
as  white  as  Margaret's.  "  May  I  ask  who  the 
young  lady  is  inquiring  for  ? "  he  said,  with  another 
flourish,  and  a  signal  to  some  one  behind  the  coun 
ter. 

"  Margaret,"  the  child  answered,  taught  by 
experience  that  possibly  the  whole  world  might 
not  know  who  "  sister "  was  ;  though  it  seemed 
strange  that  the  great  fact  of  her  life  should  be  un 
familiar  here.  "  Will  you  tell  me  where  she  is,  sir  ? " 

"  Margaret  ?  Lovely  name !  "  said  the  young 
man,  in  a  tone  that  made  Susie  feel  more  uncom 
fortable  still.  "  There  happen  to  be  several  young 
ladies  in  Philadelphia  so  fortunate  as  to  be  called 
by  it,  four  or  five  of 'em  here.  Suppose  you 
couldn't  give  any  further  particulars  ? " 

He  stood  directly  in  front  of  her,  and  made 
such  elaborate  flourishes  that  she  knew  very  well, 
apart  from  the  little  laugh  from  behind  the  coun 
ter,  that  he  was  only  pretending  to  help  her ;  so 
she  stood  for  a  moment  at  bay,  uncertain  whether 
to  dart  past  him,  and  run  off  into  the  cold  and 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  69 

darkness,  or  cry  where  she  stood.  She  began  to 
feel  her  fatigue  now ;  and  the  bright  lights  and 
confusion  of  the  store  were  bewildering. 

"  What 's  all  this  ? "  some  one  said,  coming  up 
behind  her  tormentor,  who  started  at  the  voice. 

His  very  attitude  grew  respectful  as  he  an 
swered  :  "  Only  some  poor  child,  sir,  asking  for 
one  of  the  girls." 

"  And  you  were  too  busy  to  attend  to  her,  it 
appears  ? "  said  the  gentleman,  who  did  not  look 
half  so  severe  as  his  tone  made  her  expect  that  he 
would  when  she  ventured  to  look  up ;  and  that 
was  softened  as  he  spoke  to  her. 

"  "Who  shall  I  find  for  you  ?  We  will  not 
trouble  this  gentleman  any  longer." 

"  I  wanted  to  see  my  sister  Margaret,  sir — 
Margaret  Grant ;  she  sells  dresses  ;  she  told  me  to 
come  for  her,"  said  Susie,  apologetically. 

"  Miss  Grant  ? "  (Susie  ventured  another  look, 
and  thought  he  did  not  seem  very  much  offended 
at  her  intrusion.)  "  This  way.  If  you  had  come 
in  the  Arch  Street  door,  you  would  have  been  close 
by  her.  But  never  mind :  here  she  is — looking 
for  you,  I  dare  say." 

Margaret's  thoughts,  just  at  that  moment,  were 


70  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

certainly  more  with  her  little  sister,  wandering  up 
and  down  the  dark  streets,  than  the  rich  brocade 
she  was  mechanically  showing  off  to  the  best  ad 
vantage.  The  quick  exclamation,  "  Oh,  my  dar 
ling  !"  as  she  caught  sight  of  the  child,  expressed 
at  once  her  anxiety  and  her  thankfulness,  both  of 
which  were  so  great  that  she  did  not  notice  who 
had  been  Susie's  guide  through  the  intricacies  of 
shelves  and  counters  ;  and,  when  the  child  had 
squeezed  her  hand  in  speechless  delight  at  being 
under  her  sister's  protection  once  more,  the  gentle 
man  had  gone  away  without  waiting  to  be  thanked. 

"  One  moment,  Susie  ;  curl  yourself  up  in  the 
corner,  dear,"  was  all  Margaret  had  time  to  say. 

"  Two  and  a  quarter  ? "  inquired  the  lady  to 
whom  she  was  showing  the  silk,  impatient  of  the 
little  interruption. 

"  Two  and  a  quarter,  that  is  it,"  said  Margaret. 

"  Don't  you  think  it's  rather  high  ? " 

"  One  of  our  newest  importations,  ma'am.  Mr. 
Churchill  selected  it  himself,  while  away  ;  he 
chooses  all  our  evening  dresses." 

"  Do  you  think  it  would  be  becoming  to  me  ? " 
The  lady  was  one  of  those  who  ask  everybody's 
opinion  on  their  dress,  from  their  husband  to  the 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  71 

chambermaid,  but  always  end  in  following  their 
own.  She  was  neither  young,  nor  pretty.  Mar 
garet  could  not  help  fancying  the  figure  she  would 
be,  in  a  pale  rose-colored  brocade,  intended  for  a 
young  girl  of  nineteen,  but  her  honesty  had  daily 
and  hourly  such  trials. 

"As  becoming  as  any  thing  else  would  be,"  she 
thought,  but  said :  "  I  suppose  it  is  for  Mrs.  Flag's 
ball,  we  have  sold  several  dresses  for  it  to-day.  I 
believe  her  rooms  are  always  well-lighted ;  this  silk 
needs  a  good  light." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  lady,  forgetting  in  her  curiosity, 
as  to  who  had  purchased  dresses  for  the  great  ball, 
and  what  they  were  going  to  wear,  that  Margaret 
had  evaded  her  question.  "  Mrs.  John  Thompson 
is  one  of  your  customers,  isn't  she  ? " 

Not  condescending  to  question  openly,  Mrs. 
Flag's  invited  guest  did  not  hesitate  to  put  leading 
questions.  Adelaide  Long,  standing  idly  by,  and 
covertly  ridiculing  the  dress,  manners,  and  lan 
guage  of  the  lady  to  Ellen  Bbyne,  would  have 
launched  forth  instantly  on  a  flood  of  welcome  gos 
sip.  Next  to  home  servants,  the  clerks  in  a  store 
like  this,  know  more  of  society  and  its  affairs, 
particularly  if  they  are  women,  who  have  an 
instinctive  talent  for  putting  this  and  that  together. 


72  LOSS  AND  GAIN:  OK, 

At  Lowry's,  for  instance,  those  plainly-dressed, 
quiet-looking  women,  take  your  measure  at  a 
glance,  as  you  walk  in  at  the  door.  They  know 
whether  you  are  a  stranger  in  town,  or  only  to  its 
fashionable  quarter.  You  might  purchase  the 
most  costly  article  in  their  charge,  and  it  would 
not  alter  their  opinion  of  your  standing  one  whit. 

If  you  are  a  Philadelphian,  and  do  not  visit 
Mrs.  Flag,  or  show  any  ignorance  of  such  old  fam 
ily  names  as  are  to  them  daily  food,  they  will 
wait  on  you  attentively,  it  is  true,  but  with  that 
distant  though  perfect  civility  which  marks  the 
attentions  of  a  superior.  They  would  not  them 
selves  change  places  with  you  in  the  social  scale, 
for  they  are  in  daily  and  familiar  intercourse  with 
the  people  you  scarcely  know  by  sight.  You  can 
not  help  feeling  the  bow,  with  which  they  hand 
you  your  change,  and  resume  immediately  the 
conversation  or  employment  which  your  appear 
ance  interrupted.  They  hold  Mrs.  Tom  Baker, 
quoted  as  she  is  in  some  circles,  as  a  parvenu,  and 
could  detail  any  step  of  her  rise  in  society,  from 
the  time  she  moved  into  Spruce  Street,  and  took 
a  pew  in  St.  Peter's  Church,  up  to  the  final  coup 
d'etat  by  which  she  accomplished  the  entree  to 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  73 

Mrs.  Flag's  receptions,  and  thus  settled  the  doubt 
ful  point  of  her  position  triumphantly. 

It  is  by  no  means  a  "  pursuit  of  knowledge 
under  difficulties  "  with  them.  Mrs.  Flag  talks  to 
the  young  gentlemen  friends  always  hanging  about 
her  in  shopping  hours,  and  specifies  any  name 
whose  pretensions  she  intends  to  wither,  and  others 
that  shall  be  graciously  permitted  to  flourish  in 
the  light  of  her  countenance.  Mrs.  Tom  Baker 
follows,  and  complains  to  her  daquer,  little  Miss 
Smith,  of  the  neglect  and  slights  of  her  late  New 
port  intimates  :  breaks  off  in  the  selection  of  her 
gloves  to  exclaim  :  "  Oh,  and  about  that  horrid 
affair  of  Augustus  Middleton,"  and  gives  place  to 
Mrs.  Middleton's  intimate  friend  who  is  fresh  from 
a  long  recital  of  the  whole  affair,  and  says  to  her 
companion  :  "  Isn't  it  distressing  ?  poor  Mrs.  Mid 
dleton  looked  as  if  she  had  not  slept  a  wink  all 
night,"  (which  do  you  prefer,  my  dear,  plum-color 
or  tan  ?)  "  and  there  must  be  a  divorce,  I  think." 

But  it  is  quite  time  that  we  return  to  the  hum 
bler  aspirations  of  Mrs.  George  Anthony  Bond, 
well  known  to  them  also,  by  her  costly  purchases, 
and  her  endeavors  to  make  them  understand  that 

she  is  perfectly  au  fait  to  the  movements  of  all 
4 


74:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

these  great  people,  by  continually  quoting  their 
dress,  or  doings.  She  is  not  successful,  however, 
for  they  are  as  well  aware  as  she  is  herself,  that 
she  once  gave  music  lessons  to  Mrs.  Tom  Baker's 
younger  sisters,  and  taught  the  Miss  Burneys  draw 
ing. 

Margaret  least  of  any  perhaps,  in  the  throng 
of  attendants  at  Churchill  &  Choate's,  busied  her 
self  with  these  absorbing  topics,  and  therefore  it 
was  not  simply  a  stroke  of  policy  with  her  to 
suppose  that  the  elegantly  dressed  lady  she  served, 
was  a  visitor  of  Mrs.  Flag's.  Next  to  receiving 
an  invitation,  it  was  supremely  delightful  to  be 
supposed  entitled  to  one,  and  Mrs.  Bond  immedi 
ately  decided  to  have  the  brocade ;  though  from 
another  point  of  weakness  in  her  character,  a  fancy 
for  paying  a  little  less  than  the  price  demanded 
for  any  article,  she  did  not  manifest  her  intentions 
at  once. 

Susie,  watching  these  proceedings  from  behind 
the  counter,  was  more  particularly  interested  in 
the  dress  and  conduct  of  Miss  Ida  Frances,  who 
accompanied  her  mamma.  She  had  never  before 
seen  a  little  girl  of  her  own  age  so  handsomely 
dressed,  except  at  a  distance,  in  church  perhaps  ; 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  75 

and  Margaret  had  always  taught  her  that  there,  it 
•was  not  right  to  notice  or  comment  on  such  things. 
Miss  Ida,  tired  of  .settling  her  pompadour  pink  bon 
net,  and  ermine  tippet,  in  the  great  mirror  let  into 
the  wall  behind  Margaret,  began  to  think  it  was 
high  time  her  wants  received  some  attention. 
"  Mamma,  mamma  !  "  she  began,  twitching  her 
mother's  sleeve,  "  come,  I  want  to  know  what  I  'm 
going  to  have  ? " 

"  Look  for  yourself,  Ida ;  can't  you  ?  Don't 
bother  me ! " 

The  tone  was  quite  as  pettish  and  familiar  as 
the  child's.  Susie,  expecting  to  hear  a  sharp  repri 
mand  at  least,  opened  her  eyes  wide,  and  looked 
at  Margaret  to  see  if  she  was  not  equally  astonished ; 
but  Margaret  had  seen  such  "  honoring  of  father 
and  mother  "  before. 

"  Show  me  something  pretty,"  the  child  said 
imperiously,  to  Ellen  Boyne,  while  Addy  Long 
suggested  in  an  undertone  that  she  needed  "  whip 
ping  and  putting  to  bed." 

"  Oh,  how  lovely,"  thought  Susie,  as  a  crimson 
mousseline,  with  a  tiny  black  figure  was  opened 
temptingly  upon  the  counter,  "I'm  sure  she'll 
take  that !  Only  think  that  she  can  choose  for 


76  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

herself ;  she  can't  find  any  thing  prettier  than  that, 
I  guess." 

"  Not  a  mousseline  !  "  And  the  despised  fabric 
was  tossed  contemptuously  aside.  "  I  've  got 
plenty  of  school-dresses.  I  want  a  party  dress 
too." 

So  she  went  to  parties.  What  kind  of  parties 
could  they  be  where  that  crimson  mousseline  was 
not  good  enough  to  wear  ? 

But,  while  Susie  thus  commented  wonderingly 
to  herself,  Mrs.  Bond  had  discovered  that  Margaret 
really  meant  what  she  said ;  that  two  dollars  and 
a  quarter  a  yard  was  the  very  least  the  silk  could 
be  had  for,  directed  it  to  be  cut,  and  turned  her 
attention  to  Miss  Ida,  who  had  chosen  a  plaid  glace, 
in  which  the  gayest  colors  were  mingled. 

"  Oh,  you  extravagant  little  thing  !  You  '11 
ruin  your  father  !  "  And  Mrs.  Bond  upraised  her 
well-gloved  hands  in  a  pretty  affectation  of  dis 
may. 

"That's  what  he  says  about  somebody  else, 
every  day,"  retorted  the  child,  pertly.  "  It  isn't 
but  just  half  as  much  as  yours." 

"  Well,  only  don't  tell  him  what  it  cost,  or  mine 
either.  How  do  you  know  what  I  gave?  Ann 


HOME.  77 

will  have  to  make  it  for  you.  I  must  save  some 
how." 

"  No,  Ann  shan't.  She  spoiled  my  taiieton 
with  the  tucks.  Ann  doesn't  know  anything.  All 
the  girls  at  our  school  go  to  Miss  Singer,  and  I 
shall,  too." 

"  What  are  children  coming  to  ? "  Mrs.  Bond 
said  to  Margaret,  in  smiling  approval,  evidently 
delighted  with  her  daughter's  fashionable  predilec 
tions,  though  pretending  to  disclaim  all  part  or  lot 
in  this  precious  development. 

"  What,  indeed  ? "  thought  Margaret,  glancing 
from  the  bold,  over-dressed  little  puppet  to  her 
shy,  patient  sister  in  the  corner,  and  wondering 
what  effect  the  example  might  have. 

Susie  watched  the  miniature  woman  of  fashion 
to  the  very  door,  and  then  turned  to  Margaret  with 
an  odd  little  sigh ;  but  Margaret's  time  and  atten 
tion  were  again  engaged.  She  was  most  grateful 
to  the  good-natured  Marianne,  who  came  and  sat 
down  by  her,  and  to  Ellen  Boyne,  who  hunted  up 
some  pretty  embossed  and  gilt  papers,  giving  her, 
besides,  an  empty  glove-box,  with  a  gay  picture 
on  the  lid,  to  put  them  in.  They  were  real  treas 
ures  to  Susie  ;  and  she  turned  them  over,  and  ad- 


78  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

mired  them,  trying  not  to  feel  tired ;  but  she  could 
not  help  wishing,  every  time  she  thought  of  the 
long  walk  before  her,  that  she  should  be  glad  when 
they  were  safe  home,  even  with  the  prospect  of 
Margaret  for  a  companion. 

The  store  was  closed  at  last ;  and  Margaret's 
cheerful  "  Come  now,  Susie "  roused  the  child 
from  the  first  bewildering  drowsiness  of  approach 
ing  sleep. 

Tired  little  feet !  lagging  wearily  behind  Mar 
garet's  brisk  step,  quickened  by  the  fresh  air  after 
a  long  day's  imprisonment ;  shivering  little  figure ! 
wrapping  the  thin  shawl  closer  and  closer  as  the 
cold  wind  swept  around  the  corner,  and  down  the 
cross  streets,  in  their  very  faces !  weary  little  head ! 
beginning  to  wonder  already  over  the  great  social 
problem  of  rich  and  poor.  Struggle  on  a  little 
longer  with  the  strange  numbing  apathy  creeping 
on  !  Yery  still  and  straight  those  failing  limbs 
may  lie  ere  long. 

The  gleaming  light  of  the  apothecary's  window 
on  the  corner  streamed  out  with  strange,  ghastly 
tints  over  the  icy  pavement — that  well-known  land 
mark  never  so  joyfully  hailed  as  now. 

"  I  do  hope  the  boys  will  be  in  bed,  sister ; 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  Y9 

don't  you  ? "  And  the  great  shivering  sigh  that 
could  not  be  kept  back  any  longer  told,  more  plain 
ly  than  any  complaining,  why  she  hoped  so. 

"  Are  you  so  very  tired  ?  poor  little  Susie ! 
Why  didn't  you  tell  me  so,  dear,  at  the  Exchange  ? 
and  we  could  have  taken  an  omnibus." 

"I  heard  you  tell  the  good-natured  girl  that 
you  didn't  have  any  money  when  she  asked  you 
to  lend  her  some  ;  and  I  didn't  like  to,  sister." 

Margaret's  heart  smote  her  with  thoughtless 
ness,  selfishness  it  seemed  ;  she  had  been  so  glad 
of  the  exercise,  and  was  so  warmly  wrapped  up  in 
the  heavy  blanket  shawl.  Susie's  side,  too  ! 

"  Does  your  side  ache  badly  ? "  and  she  put 
her  arm  around  the  frail  little  figure,  and  almost 
carried  her  along. 

Susie  leaned  heavily  upon  the  welcome  support. 

"  A  little  bit ;  but  we  are  almost  home  now  ; 
ain't  we  ?  Won't  the  fire  feel  good  ? " 

The  hope  of  finding  quiet  and  rest,  as  well  as 
warmth,  was  vain.  The  boys  were  not  in  bed,  and 
evidently  had  been  celebrating  that  juvenile  car 
nival  known  as  "  turning  the  house  upside  down," 
Mrs.  Grant  having  been  too  busy  to  care  what 
happened  in  the  unusual  exertion  of  ironing,  and 


80  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

amusing  her  baby  at  the  same  time.  The  chairs 
were  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  harnessed  for  an 
omnibus  by  innumerable  twists  and  knottings  of 
the  clothes-line,  with  a  rocking-chair  for  a  leader. 
This  spirited  team  had  been  for  some  time  deserted ; 
and  Al  was  walking  about  in  his  father's  apparel, 
the  boots  up  to  his  knees,  and  the  tails  of  the  coat 
sweeping  the  floor,  the  only  drawback  on  his  en 
joyment  being  that  the  hat  would  fall  over  his  eyes 
at  every  step.  Washington,  following  after,  and 
teazing  him  to  play  "  Indian,"  a  favorite  pastime 
with  him,  since  he  could  make  more  noise  "  whoop 
ing  "  than  in  any  other  way,  pounced  upon  Susie 
the  instant  she  appeared. 

"  Shan't  Susie  play  Injun  with  me  ?  Say,  ma ! " 
shouted  the  young  tyrant,  as  she  shook  him  off 
with  a  faint  "  Oh,  don't,  Al !  Do  let  ine  be  !  " 

Margaret  had  hurried  up  stairs,  seeing  the 
lowering  look  which  greeted  their  entrance,  that 
she  might  be  ready  to  give  Susie  the  help  and 
comfort  she  stood  in  need  of. 

Susie  coveted  only  to  sit  quietly  down  behind 
the  warm  stove,  and  looked  around  in  dismay. 
She  wondered  what  made"  her  feel  so  dizzy,  as  the 
red  heat  of  the  ironing  fire  flashed,  into  her  face. 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  81 

The  spoiled  child's  appeal  was  made  at  an  un 
fortunate  moment.  Mrs.  Grant,  tired  and  angry, 
fretted  by  the  noise  and  the  worry  of  the  baby, 
was  even  less  placable  then  usual.  She  was  going 
for  a  hot  iron  as  the  boy  tugged  at  the  skirt  of  her 
dress,  and  shouted  again :  "  Say,  ma !  shan't  Susie 
play  Injun  with  me  ? " 

The  tired  child  saw  the  angry  look,  the  upraised 
hand  with  which  Mrs.  Grant  came  towards  her ; 
but  she  had  not  strength  to  get  out  of  her  way, 
scarcely  to  shrink  from  her. 

"  Good-for-nothing,  lazy  little  piece  !  "  And 
then  came  a  blow  on  the  ear  that  made  the  whole 
room  reel,  and  took  her  breath  away. 

That  strange,  blind,  suffocating  feeling !  Susie 
thought  it  must  be  dying,  and  almost  hoped  it  was. 
The  light,  the  stove,  the  children,  swam  before  her 
eyes  as  she  fell  to  the  floor,  her  head  striking  against 
the  table  ;  and  then  all  was  darkness — no  pain,  no 
outcry  as  she  lay  at  the  angry  woman's  feet. 

Presently,  she  was  conscious  of  lying  in  Mar 
garet's  lap,  and  thought  she  heard  her  sister  saying, 
as  if  she  had  been  far  off,  "  You  have  killed  her  at 
last !  "  and  the  boys  crying  with  fright,  but  all  so 

far  away.    She  could  not  open  her  eyes,  or  move, 
4* 


82  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

or  speak  ;  and  she  thought  perhaps  this  was  "being 
dead,  as  her  father  and  Margaret  lifted  her,  and 
carried  her  up  stairs  to  the  bed.  She  felt  drops  of 
water  falling  on  her  forehead — or  was  it  Margaret's 
tears  ? — felt  them  slowly  trickle  down  her  cheek  ; 
and  then  she  seemed  to  sleep,  and  forget  every 
thing  again. 


MAEGAEET'S  HOME.  83 


OHAPTEE   VI. 

MES.  GEANT,  wliose  conscience  was  soothed  by 
a  good  night's  rest,  called  the  child  as  usual  when 
daylight  came.  Margaret  had  watched  with  sleep 
less  love  and  sorrow  over  the  wan  face,  flushed 
into  fever  by  midnight,  and  changing  in  restless, 
torturous  dreams.  She  knew  that  the  faintness  was 
only  a  token  of  some  deep-seated  malady  threaten 
ing  her  sister.  "  She  can't  get  up.  Please  don't 
wake  her,"  she  said,  as  Mrs.  Grant,  muttering  some 
thing  about  "  knowing  the  reason  of  all  these  airs," 
appeared  in  her  early  morning  deshabille. 

Susie,  startled  by  their  voices,  started  from  her 
pillow,  and  tried  to  spring  out  of  bed ;  but  the 
movement  awakened  a  piercing,  agonizing  pain ; 
and  Margaret,  made  determined  by  her  fears,  dress 
ed  hurriedly,  and  went  herself  for  a  physician. 

"  I  don't  see  how  Pm  to  -blame,"  said  Mrs. 
Grant  to  her  husband,  later  in  the  day. 


84:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Susie  had  fallen  asleep  again,  with  the  appli 
cation  of  a  blister  to  her  side ;  and  Margaret, 
•unwilling  to  leave  her,  had  felt  compelled  to  go, 
nevertheless. 

"  Because  Margaret  chose  to  drag  her  oif  to 
that  store,  cold  as  it  was,  and  I  happened  to  box 
her  ears  for  being  so  cross,  just  as  the  stove  made 
her  sick  !  How  should  I  know  she  was  going  to 
faint  away  ? " 

"  But  the  doctor  says  it  must  have  been  coming 
on  some  time,"  returned  her  husband,  roused  from 
his  usual  apathy  by  Susie's  suffering  and  danger. 
"  He  says  she  must  have  strained  her  side  some 
how.  I  always  thought  Leander  was  too  heavy 
for  her." 

"  See  here,  now !  leave  me  tell  you,  once  for 
all ;  I  ain't  goin'  to  be  found  fault  with  any  longer. 
It 's  new  capers  for  you,  anyhow ;  and  it 's  bad 
enough  to  have  that  child  sick  up  stairs,  and  every 
stitch  to  do  myself,  and  her  to  wait  on  into  the 
bargain." 

Mrs.  Grant's  voice  began  to  break  into  the 
complaining  whimper  which  her  husband  dreaded 
more  than  its  higher  key,  because  from  this  there 
was  no  appeal. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME*  85 

"  Well,  Jane,  I  was  only  going  to  say" — he 
began,  more  humbly : 

"  I  don't  see  what  right  you  have  to  say  any 
thing,  you,  of  all  people.  Wasn't  I  making  money 
at  a  good  trade  when  I  married  you  ?  and  didn't 
you  bring  me  here  to  do  nothing  but  slave,  and  be 
put  upon,  and  rode  over  by  that  high-strung  daugh 
ter  of  yours  ?  And  here  I  work,  and  work,  and 
work  from  morning  till  night,  and  no  thanks  from 
nobody ;  while  you're  idling  round,  and  taking  the 
very  bread  out  of  my  mouth  with  them  ridiculous 
patterns  and  machines  of  your  'n." 

Mrs.  Grant's  feelings  entirely  overcame  her ; 
and  she  set  down  the  flat-iron  she  was  using,  on  the 
pound  weight  which  did  duty  as  a  stand,  and  her 
self  in  a  Boston  rocking-chair. 

Mr.  Grant  scorned  to  defend  his  beloved  pur 
suits  to  one  so  utterly  without  comprehension  of 
them,  and  forbore  to  attempt  consolation,  in  the 
fear  of  making  a  bad  matter  worse. 

"If  there's  anything  I  hate,"  continued  his 
wife,  in  the  same  miserable  tone,  and  rocking  vio 
lently,  the  more  effectually  to  compose  her  excited 
feelings,  "  it 's  a  sick  person  in  the  house.  It  makes 
me  so  low-spirited ;  and,  though  that  child  don't 


86  LOSS   AND   GAIN  ;    OK, 

earn  her  salt,  nor  never  did,  every  step  counts,  I 
tell  you ;  though  there 's  no  use  of  telling  you. 
Men  never  realize  such  things.  No  ;  I  guess  they 
don't.  They  wouldn't  care  if  a  woman  worked 
and  worked  till  she  dropped,  so  long  as  they  was 
made  comfortable.  If  I  'd  only  knowed  how  things 
was  goin',  I  never  would  have  got  myself  into  the 
scrape,  you  may  depend  !  and  I  earning  my  three 
and  four  dollars  a  week,  and  wearing  my  silks  and 
satins !  I  haven't  had  the  first  thing  like  other 
folks  since  I  came  into  this  house  ;  and  you  know 
it ;  and  now  you  undertake  to  blame  me." 

So  ended  Mr.  Grant's  first  and  last  attempt  to 
interfere  in  Susie's  behalf;  and  it  was  through 
such  scenes  as  this,  of  almost  daily  occurrence,  that 
Margaret,  with  her  love  of  all  that  was  gentle  and 
refined,  had  come  almost  to  hate  her  home.  True 
to  her  first  resolves,  she  seldom  suffered  herself  to 
be  drawn  into  contending  with  her  step-mother ; 
nor  had  she  the  vulgar  prejudice  which  holds  all 
who  bear  that  much  abused  title,  monsters  of  neg 
lect  and  cruelty.  Mrs.  Grant,  in  any  other  situa 
tion,  would  have  been  just  what  nature  and 
association  had  made  her,  a  selfish,  coarse,  unedu 
cated  person,  who  had  no  other  idea  of  influence 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  87 

than  wheedling  or  complaining,  and  could  not 
understand  Margaret's  patient  forbearance  of  word 
and  deed  in  any  other  light  than  pride  and  deter 
mined  obstinacy.  It  was  a  misfortune  that  the  two 
natures  had  ever  come  in  contact,  unless,  indeed, 
the  attrition  had  been  needed  to  heighten  the 
sterling  gold  of  the  young  girl's  character  and 
disposition. 

Susie's  illness  was  pronounced  pleurisy,  need 
ing  great  care  ;  though  if  the  violence  of  the  first 
attack  was  subdued,  there  would  be  no  immediate 
danger.  This  was  said  before  her,  though  Margaret 
tried  to  prevent  any  expression  of  the  doctor's 
opinion  until  they  were  down  stairs  again.  She 
knew  the  nervous  excitability  of  his  patient,  and 
understood,  if  he  did  not,  why  the  fever  remained 
unchecked  at  the  end  of  the  third  day. 

"  Oh,  sister,  if  you  could  only  stay  with  me  ! " 
Susie  said,  the  instant  he  was  out  of  hearing. 
"  Medicine  won't  do  any  good.  It 's  so  lonesome ! 
and  my  head  aches  so,  counting  the  window-panes, 
and  the  knobs  on  the  bureau-drawers,  and  the 
cracks  in  the  wall,  over,  and  over,  and  over  again ! 
I  try  not  to ;  and  I  say  the  multiplication-table, 
and  '  The  House  that  Jack  built,'  and  all  sorts  of 


88  LOSS   AND   GAIN  ;    OK, 

things,  backwards  and  forwards,  and  hold  my  eyes 
down.  But  I  can't  go  to  sleep.  They  fly  right 
up  ;  and  I  begin  again." 

"  I  know  it  is  hard,"  said  Margaret,  trying  to 
smooth  put  the  tangles  of  her  soft,  fair  hairf  mat- 
ted  with  tossing  from  side  to  side  all  day. 

"  The  pillow  gets  so  hot,  and  the  bed  so  hard, 
before  night  comes  !  and  the  clothes  slip  down  on 
the  floor,  and  my  head  aches  as  though  it  would 
burst." 

"  Do  I  hurt  your  head  now,  dear  ? " 

Margaret  could  scarcely  keep  her  voice  from 
trembling.  It  was  such  a  miserable  picture,  the 
child's  long,  lonely  day  ;  and  yet  she  did  not  see 
how  it  could  be  otherwise. 

"  Oh  no,  sister !  Nothing  you  do  ever  hurts 
me,  not  even  dressing  iny  blister.  Your  hand  is 
so  cool  and  nice,  it  makes  my  head  better.  What 
made  the  doctor  ask  you  how  mother  died,*and  if 
I  was  like  her,  to-night  ?  " 

"  Did  you  hear  him  ? "  asked  Margaret,  startled, 
for  she  did  not  think  Susie  would  understand  the 
doctor's  opinion,  that  the  constitutional  delicacy 
she  inherited  was  the  worst  feature  of  the  -case. 

"  I  can't  help  hearing  everything,  Maggie.     It 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  89 

seems  as  if  I  could  hear  twice  as  well  as  before  I 
was  sick.  Every  sound  goes  through  and  through 
my  head ;  and  Al  and  Washington  have  had  to 
stay  in  these  rainy  days ;  and  then  I  can  hear 
father  and  mother  talk  when  he  conies  in ;  and  she 
says  such  ugly  things  about  you,  it  makes  me  feel 
so  wicked ! " 

"  Never  mind  me."  Margaret  checked  Susie 
quickly.  She  knew  it  would  do  her  no  good  to 
listen  to  Mrs.  Grant's  opinion  of  her,  much  as  she 
desired  to  distract  Susie's  thoughts  from  herself. 
"  I  '11  ask  mother  if  she  can't  keep  the  boys  a  little 
quieter ;  shall  I  ?  and  maybe  father  will  stay  at 
home  again,  and  work,  as  soon  as  he  has  seen  all 
those  gentlemen.  That  will  be  a  great  deal  of 
company  for  you." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  about  the  boys  so  much, 
except  when  I  am  trying  to  go  to  sleep  !  but  I  do 
wish  she  wouldn't  sit  right  down  by  the  stairs,  and 
talk  to  old  Mrs.  Devine  about  that  woman  that 
died.  Mrs.  Devine  has  been  in  every  day ;  and 
they  talk  and  talk  about  sick  people,  and  dead 
people,  and  laying  them  out — I  believe  Mrs.  De- 
vine  likes  to — and  how  they  look  after  it.  Oh,  I 
can't  bear  ! — "  And  Susie's  slight  frame  quiv- 


90  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

ered  as  she  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  to  shut 
out  some  terrible  sight. 

"  There !  there,  darling !  "  said  Margaret,  sooth 
ingly  ;  "  there's  nothing  dreadful  about  the  dead. 
Don't  you  remember  that,  when  you  were  a  little 
thing,  you  used  to  like  me  to  tell  you  about  our 
mother  in  her  white  dress,  and  her  hands  folded, 
as  if  she  was  praying  for  father  and  us  ?  and  the 
white  roses,  Susie,  that  Ruth  brought  and  put  by 
them  ?  and  how  her  mouth  seemed  to  smile  the 
very  last  time  we  looked  at  her  ? " 

"  But  then  I  went  to  a  funeral,  you  know,  sister," 
said  Susie,  starting  up  again,  "  when  Anne  Lyons 
died.  She  looked  so  hollow  and  dreadful  in  the 
coffin ;  and  everybody  that  was  there,  whether 
they  knew  her  or  not,  came  and  looked  at  her,  and 
said  just  what  they  pleased  about  her.  I  couldn't 
bear  to  think  people  were  going  to  look  at  me  so, 
Maggie." 

"  They  never  should ;  but  you  're  not  going  to 
die  now,  dear." 

"  I  think  I  am,  though,  almost  all  the  time,  or 
the  doctor  would  not  talk  about  mother.  And  I  '11 
tell  you  what 's  the  very  worst  thing  of  all.  "When 
it  getsd  arker  and  darker  up  here,  and  it  isn't  time 


MAEGAUET'S  HOME.  91 

for  you  yet,  and  the  boys  go  to  bed,  it 's  so  dread 
fully  still  down  stairs,  and  in  the  front  room,  and 
everywhere ;  then  I  get  so  frightened ;  and  I  think 
what  if  I  should  die,  and  they  let  old  Mrs.  Devine 
come  and  lay  me  out !  and  then  she  should  talk 
about  me  to  other  people  so,  and  say  whether  I 
looked  natural  or  not !  " 

"  Don't !  hush,  Susie !  please  don't !  "  said  Mar 
garet,  crying  silently  in  spite  of  herself. 

"  But  I  can't  help  it,  Maggie.  I  try,  and  try, 
and  hide  my  head  under  the  bed-clothes ;  and  then 
I  imagine  that  I  am  buried ;  and  I  have  such  a 
dreadful,  suffocating  feeling ;  and  it  seems  as  if 
you  never  would  come.  Oh,  dear  !  dear !  "  And 
the  child,  fairly  beside  herself  with  recounting  the 
terrors  of  darkness,  flung  her  arms  about  wildly, 
and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"  You  must  not !  indeed  you  must  not,  sister  ! 
You  are  making  yourself  a  great  deal  worse,"  said 
Margaret,  taking  Susie's  hands  in  her  own,  and 
stroking  them  caressingly.  Every  word  had  pierc 
ed  her  own  heart,  for,  though  she  could  not  blame 
Mrs.  Grant,  borne  down  by  household  cares,  and 
fretted  by  her  father's  inefficiency,  she  could  not 
but  think  how  different  it  would  have  been  were 


92  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

her  own  mother  living — she  who  accomplished  so 
much  so  noiselessly,  who  upheld  her  father,  and 
never  upbraided  him — the  gentlest  and  tenderest 
of  nurses.  She  remembered  her  own  childish  sick 
ness,  and  how  she  had  been  rocked  in  her  mother's 
arms,  and  soothed  in  pain — which  was  nothing  to 
that  which  Susie  bore  so  patiently — as  only  a  moth 
er  can  soothe,  with  soft  kisses  on  her  forehead,  and, 
best  of  all,  those  low,  old-fashioned  hymns. 

"  Shall  I  sing  for  you,  Susie,  when  I  make  the 
clothes  all  straight  and  comfortable  ?  Mother 
used  to  sing  to  me  when  I  was  sick ;  and  I  remem 
ber  how  it  used  to  put  me  to  sleep  when  nothing 
else  did.  I  wouldn't  think  any  thing  more  about 
these  things  to-night :  and  to-morrow  I  '11  try  and 
see  if  Ruth  can't  come  and  sit  with  you  awhile. 
Shall  I?" 

But  Susie  only  sobbed  the  faster ;  and  Marga 
ret,  still  brushing  back  the  hair  from  the  child's 
forehead,  drew  her  head  from  the  weary  pillow  to 
her  bosom,  and  sang  the  dear  old  cradle  hymns, 
as  if  she  were  hushing  a  baby  to  sleep. 

The  tears  lay  still,  after  a  time,  on  the  burning 
cheeks  ;  the  grieving,  quivering  sighs  came  at 
longer  intervals  ;  and  Susie  was  comforted. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  93 

But  for  Margaret  there  was  no  rest  that  night. 
She  had  to  struggle  with  rebellions  thoughts : 
"  Why  should  that  innocent  child  suffer  so  much  ? 
Why  must  she  be  so  helpless  to  relieve  her  ? " — still 
shrinking  from  the  trial  of  her  faith,  and  thinking, 
as  all  do  who  question  our  Father's  wiser  choices, 
that  she  could  bear  any  other  trouble  better  than 
the  one  he  had  sent  to  chasten  her,  forgetting,  as 
we  all  do,  until  the  proud  will,  bending,  suffers 
the  Comforter  to  call  to  remembrance,  that  the 
sorrow  is  from  Him  who  doth  not  grieve  willingly. 
Yague  wishes  and  plans  floated  in  feverish  con 
fusion  through  her  mind  ;  and  the  consciousness 
of  the  child's  lonely  suffering  never  left  her,  even 
in  snatches  of  restless  sleep.  She  was  thankful 
for  the  first  sickly  dawn  of  day.  The  darkness 
had  to  her,  as  well  as  Susie,  phantoms  of  its  own. 

The  heavy  head  of  the  little  sleeper  turned 
wakefully  upon  her  pillow. 

"  Better  this  morning,  I'm  sure,"  her  loving 
nurse  said,  as  cheerfully  as  she  could.  "  Your 
head  is  cooler ;  and  you  slept  more  quietly  than 
you  have  done  since  you  were  sick." 

"  It  must  have  been  because  you  sang  to  me, 
then,"  said  Susie,  gratefully.  "  Stoop  down,  and 


94:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

let  me  kiss  you.  Oh,  I  do  love  you  so  mucli! 
Why,  you're  all  dressed  ?  Have  I  slept  so  late  ? 
But  your  eyes  look  tired." 

"  Do  they  ?  I  must  be  getting  old — that's  it 
— and  you  see  the  wrinkles.  See  how  much  better 
I  shall  look  when  I've  brushed  my  hair.  It  wasn't 
done  very  smoothly  ;  was  it  ?  " 

She  did  not  care  that  Susie  should  know  she 
had  not  laid  off  her  clothes  at  all. 

"  I  think  you  have  such  beautiful  hair,  sister." 

This  opinion  was  no  sisterly  weakness.  Every 
body  thought  Margaret  had  beautiful  hair.  Per 
haps  she  thought  so  herself,  for  she  was  more 
careful  of  its  arrangement  than  of  any  part  of  her 
toilet.  ]STow  it  rippled  and  brightened  in  the  early 
sunlight,  as  she  loosened  the  braids  from  their 
unwonted  confinement,  like  Godiva's  own  tresses ; 
and  Susie,  who  had  never  heard  of  that  lovely 
lady,  "  clothed  on  with  purity,"  looked  on  from 
the  bed  admiringly. 

"  How  vain  I  should  be  if  I  believed  all  you 
say!" 

Margaret's  voice  had  a  playfulness  she  was  far 
from  feeling ;  but  she  was  glad  to  see  Susie  divert 
ed,  if  only  for  an  instant. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  95 

V 

"  Oh  dear,  what  a  long  day  it's  going  to  be  ! " 
was  the  next  ejaculation.  The  shadow  came  over 
the  brightened  face,  and  over  Margaret's  path 
again.  "  But  I  didn't  mean  to  say  it.  I  don't 
want  you  to  be  worried ;  I  don't  mean  to  complain ; 
only  it  seems  to  make  me  feel  better  sometimes." 

"  I  know  just  how  it  is,  dear,  and  how  hard  it 
is  to  lie  here  all  by  yourself ;  but  I'm  going  for 
Ruth,  recollect." 

Margaret  did  not  dare  to  promise  any  thing 
more,  and  hurried  away  on  her  errand  before  any 
of  the  household  were  stirring. 


96  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 


CHAPTEE    VII. 

RUTH  was  up,  and  her  room  in  perfect  order, 
the  comfortable  rag-carpet  without  a  shred  from 
yesterday's  work,  the  sun  streaming  over  the  plants, 
and  sending  a  glow  of  deeper  crimson  to  the  heart 
of  a  half-open  rose  ;  the  kettle  sang  cheerily  ;  and 
the  little  round,  slender-legged  table  set  with  all 
precision  and  inviting  cleanliness.  The  equally 
tidy  mistress  of  the  little  apartment  turned  with  a 
start  from  slicing  a  loaf  of  fresh  home-made 
bread. 

"  Dear  me,  Margaret !  "What's  happened  ? 
You  look  as  if  you  had  a  fit  of  sickness.  Sit  down ! 
sit  down  !  "  And  she  drew  a  chair  between  the 
table  and  the  fire.  "  Why,  how  blue  you  are  !  " 
She  ran  on  without  waiting  for  the  answer,  which 
would  not  have  been  given  in  a  very  steady  voice. 
"  You  almost  look  as  if  you'd  been  crying.  What's 


MAEGARET'S  HOME.  97 

become  of  you  all  the  last  week  ?  I  haven't  even 
seen  Susie ;  and  she  generally  gives  me  a  call, 
since — let  me  see  !  Why,  it's  more  than  a  week, 
isn't  it,  since  she  was  around  ? " 

Margaret  explained  as  briefly  as  she  could 
their  present  domestic  troubles,  and  especially 
Susie's  chief  need ;  while  the  little  dame,  bustling 
about  to  set  the  tea  to  draw,  "  oh-deared  "  and  "  so- 
soed  "  in  kindly  sympathy. 

"  To  be  sure  I'll  go,  and  stay  with  her  as  much 
as  I  can  ;  but  my  work's  right  here  all  the  time  ; 
and  'tisn't  as  if  I  could  take  it  with  me  handy.  I 
don't  mind  your  mother.  You  needn't  be  the  least 
bit  afraid  of  that.  She  knows  enough  to  let  me 
alone.  But  I  can't  do  much  good,  half  an  hour  or 
so  a  day.  Isn't  there  anybody  you  can  get  to  stay 
right  along,  Margaret?  That  child  oughtn't  to 
be  left  all  alone,  particularly  if  she's  taken  such 
notions.  Where's  your  father  ?  Throws  her  right 
back  ;  of  course  it  does  ! " 

Margaret  shook  her  head. 

"I  can't  think  of  anybody.  Father?  He's 
out  almost  all  the  time  about  his  patent." 

"  Well,  well !  I'll  see  what  I  can  do.  You 
5 


98  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

just  sit  down,  now,  and  take  this  slice  of  toast  and 
a  cup  of  tea.    That's  what  you  need.     I  don't  be 
lieve  you've  touched  a  mouthful  to-day." 
"  I  can't  eat,  Euth.    It  would  choke  me." 
"  Jest  so.     I  know  all  about  it.    But  what  are 
you  going  to  tend  store  and  take  care  of  Susan 
on  ?     You'll  be  laid  up  next !  " 

Margaret  broke  off  a  corner  of  toast,  and  drank 
a  cup  of  tea.  She  knew  as  well  as  Euth  how 
much  she  needed  it ;  but  she  was  late,  much  later 
than  usual.  She  could  not  stay,  even  to  be  com 
forted  and  petted.  Hurrying  into  the  street,  with 
Mrs.  Norton's  kindly  "  ISTow  do  take  care  of  your 
self  "  sounding  behind  her,  a  sudden  thought  of 
asking  leave  of  absence  for  herself  darted  into  her 
mind.  What  was  money,  though  every  dollar 
was  usually  appropriated  before  it  was  received, 
to  her  sister's  life?  She  knew  that  it  depended 
far  more  on  nursing  than  medicine ;  and  she  sud 
denly  felt  what  a  terrible  blank  there  would  be 
without  this  motive  for  exertion.  She  prayed,  as 
she  walked  rapidly  along,  that  the  cup  might  not 
be  pressed  to  her  lips  ;  and  she  tried  to  utter  all 
of  that  agonized  petition ;  but,  "  nevertheless,  not 
my  willj"  she  knew,  did  not  come  from  her  heart. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  99 

If  she  could  have  seen  Mr.  Choate  when  she 
first  entered  the  store,  it  would  have  been  compara 
tively  easy  to  ask  the  permission  to  absent  herself ; 
but  he  was  unusually  engaged ;  and  the  day  open 
ed  with  such  a  press  of  customers,  that  Margaret 
began  to  feel  she  could  not  be  spared  just  at  the 
opening  of  the  holiday  season.  Then  she  thought 
of  her  salary  again.  Four  dollars  gone  !  and  Su 
sie  must  certainly  have  a  cloak,  or  a  new  warm 
shawl,  as  soon  as  she  could  go  out  again ;  and  there 
would  be  the  doctor's  bill,  and  the  medicines  from 
the  apothecary's,  with  many  more  little  expenses 
which  come  to  so  much  in  the  end,  all  growing 
out  of  this  sickness. 

"  Let  me  see ;  the  difference  is  scarcely  worth 
mentioning,"  said  the  customer  she  was  engaged 
with,  when  Mr.  Choate  reappeared  at  last,  and  re 
sumed  his  pen  with  a  zest  sharpened  by  the  hum 
of  business  around  him.  The  lady  was  hesitating 
between  two  dresses  that  she  held  up  alternately 
to  the  light.  "  Really,  I  like  this  so  much  the 
best !  "What  will  the  whole  difference  be  ? " 

"  Four  dollars  and  a  half  in  the  dress,"  said 
Margaret,  patiently.  She  had  made  the  calculation 
long  before.  The  indecision  had  lasted  at  least 


100  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

half  an  hour ;  and  the  counter  was  heaped  with 
many  other  styles. 

"  Time  does  not  seem  of  the  least  consequence 
to  most  people,"  thought  Margaret,  "  or  money 
either,  for  that  matter.  I  wonder  if  rich  people 
dream  how  we  covet  what  they  waste  of  both." 
The  remembrance  of  Susie,  wearily  tossing  all  alone 
through  that  half  hour,  came  to  her  with  a  pang. 
"  Sickness  is  nothing  to  the  rich.  It  can't  be  half 
as  much  as  it  is  to  us,  with  all  the  care  and  anxiety 
it  brings  to  poor  people.  I  don't  suppose  it  ever 
comes  into  their  minds  what  a  blessing  it  is  to.be 
able  to  take  care  of  those  they  love,  and  never 
have  to  leave  them  when  they  are  suffering." 

It  certainly  did  not  come  into  Margaret's, — for 
we  see  only  one  side  of  the  picture  at  a  time, — how 
much  these  cares  distract  from  the  dull  wearing 
anxiety  of  those  who  sit  by,  powerless  to  aid,  yet 
having  nothing  to  call  their  thoughts  from  the 
suffering  they  witness  !  or,  sadder  still,  how  many 
are  left  to  the  care  of  a  hireling,  because  that  care 
can  be  purchased,  with  the  ready  excuse  of  "  health 
and  spirits  suffering  from  such  close  confinement !  " 
Better  the  humble,  self-sacrificing  ministry  of  the 
poor,  one  to  another,  even  though  some  necessities 


MABGAKET'S  HOME.  101 

are  hardly  gained,  and  some  comforts  altogether 
wanting. 

Margaret  took  the  twenty  dollar  bill  at  last 
tendered  to  her,  and  went  with  it  to  the  desk  her 
self.  She  felt  a  restless  impatience  to  have  the 
matter  decided.  The  request  and  the  money  were 
proffered.  The  change  and  the  refusal  came  to 
gether. 

Mr.  Choate  expressed  himself  "  surprised  that 
Miss  Grant  shauld  ask  leave  then,  of  all  times  in 
the  year.  Miss  Grant  must  see  for  herself  " — and 
the  gray  eyes  swept  a  glance  at  the  arriving  and 
departing  throng  with  peculiar  satisfaction — "  that 
they  had  need  of  all  their  assistance,  especially 
with  Christmas  week  at  hand.  Three  levies  and 
a  fip."  And  Margaret  felt  herself  and  her  petition 
dismissed,  as  he  pushed  the  silver  towards  her. 
His  manner,  always  decided,  was  so  especially  cold 
and  uncomfortable  that  it  brought  back  to  her 
mind  the  affair  of  the  missing  dress,  which,  though 
an  ever-present  burden,  her  more  recent  troubles 
had  pressed  into  the  background.  The  lady  was 
waiting  for  the  change.  It  was  no  time  for  expla 
nation  or  expostulations.  She  stood  like  a  hunted 
creature  at  bay,  in  the  accumulated  pressure  and 


102  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

uncertainty.  For  a  moment,  she  felt  as  if  she 
would  dare  any  thing,  and  apply  ^to  Mr.  Churchill, 
whose  kind  face  at  a  little  distance  she  fancied  was 
turned  towards  the  desk  as  she  spoke  ;  but  that 
would  have  been  a  capital  offence  in  the  eyes  of 
his  senior,  who  prided  himself  on  being  a  rigid 
disciplinarian,  and  on  his  absolute  rule  in  all  minor 
transactions. 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  business  of  that  special 
department  just  then,  and  the  girls  drew  together 
in  little  groups,  to  talk  over  the  items  of  news 
dispensed  at  their  several  counters. 

"  "What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  Mar 
garet  Grant  ? "  asked  Susie's  friend  Marianne,  as 
they  watched  her  coming  back  from  the  desk.  "  I 
believe  she's  in  love  ;  I  vow  I'll  ^sk  her." 

"  In  disgrace  more  like !  "  retorted  Addy  Long, 
with  a  shrug  of  her  half-covered  shoulders.  "  Ca 
leb  looks  as  cross  as  a  thunder-cloud." 

"  Something's  going  on ;  that's  certain,"  said 
another  of  the  girls.  "  There's  Mr.  Churchill  walk 
ing  up,  and  now  they're  both  looking  after  her. 
Margaret  hasn't  been  like  herself  since  that  day 
she  was  sent  for  into  the  office.  Don't  you  know  ? " 

"  What  day  ?— no  ! "    And  Addy  Long's  color 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  103 

rose  a  shade  higher,  as  she  spoke  with  a  little  start. 
"  What  was  it  about  ?  did  you  ask  her  ?  " 

""Why,  don't  you  remember?  I  told  some 
body  when  the  girls  came  in,  and  I  thought  it  was 
you.  Ask  her !  no,  indeed !  Margaret  isn't  a 
girl  to  question  about  her  own  affairs.  How  plain 
she  always  does  dress  !  I  wonder  what  she  does 
with  her  money !  " 

"  She's  too  mean  to  spend  it !  " 

"  Oh,  for  shame,  Addy  ! "  said  two  of  the  girls 
at  once. 

"  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  take  her  part, 
Marianne.  I  heard  her  refuse  to  lend  you  a  dollar 
the  night  that  little  sister  of  hers  was  here,  after 
you'd  been  amusing  the  child,  too  ! " 

"  That's  nothing !  Margaret  knows  I'm  always 
in  debt  to  everybody.  She  doesn't  think  it's  right 
for  any  of  us  to  borrow  or  lend." 

"  Mean,  I  told  you  so,"  said  the  other  provok- 
ingly.  "  She  was  afraid  she  should  never  see  it 
again." 

Ellen  Boyne  came  to  Marianne's  aid.  "  I  don't 
think  she's  mean  exactly ;  but  I  know,  if  I  had  a 
father's  house  as  she  has,  and  no  board  to  pay,  I  sup 
pose,  I'd  have  something  better  than  such  a  dress  as 


104:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

she  wears,  year  in  and  year  out,  when  we  can  get 
things  at  cost,  too.  But  do  look,  girls  !  there  goes 
Mr.  Churchill." 

True  enough,  there  was  Mr.  Churchill  speaking 
to  Margaret,  who  remained  alone  at  her  post. 

Addy  Long's  uneasiness  visibly  increased.  She 
would  have  given  her  month's  salary,  though  she 
owed  it  all,  to  have  been  two  yards  nearer ;  but 
Mr.  Churchill  spoke  very  low,  and  they  could  not 
make  out  a  word,  though  Margaret  s  color  went 
and  came  as  she  listened. 

"  Mr.  Choate  tells  me  that  you  wish  to  be 
absent  a  week ;  on  account  of  sickness  in  the  family." 
Always  that  same  kind,  low  voice.  It  quieted  her 
of  itself. 

"  I  have  succeeded  in  showing  him  that  we  can 
spare  you  for  a  week,  at  least,  and  I  hope  by  that 
time  your  father  will  be  better." 

"  It  is  my  sister,  and  I  am  very  much  needed," 
said  Margaret,  with  a  glad,  grateful  look  of  thanks 
for  such  unexpected  succor. 

"  Perhaps,  then,  you  had  better  go  at  once. 
One  afternoon  will  not  maT^e  much  difference 
here,  and  there  are  half-a-dozen  idle  girls." 

Margaret  was  only  too  glad  to  accept  the  ad- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  105 

ditional  kindness.  She  thought  of  the  difference 
between  the  two  members  of  the  firm,  as  she  found 
Mr.  Churchill  standing  by  the  street  door  when 
she  was  ready  to  go.  He  opened  it  for  her,  and 
bowed  as  if  she  had  been  the  most  wealthy  and 
fashionable  woman  in  the  city,  though  without 
speaking.  Mr.  Ohoate  would  not  even  have  seen 
her.  Perhaps  Margaret  thought  more  than  this, 
as  she  called  to  mind  other  instances  of  Mr.  Church 
ill's  invariable  kindness  and  courtesy,  contrasting 
it  insensibly  with  the  extraordinary  airs  and  graces 
of  Mr.  Wood,  one  of  the  clerks,  who  had  lately 
distinguished  her  by  several  pointed  compliments 
and  attentions.  Yet  by  half  the  world  he  would 
have  been  considered  a  much  more  attractive  man 
than  his  employer. 

Mrs.  Grant  looked  up  in  astonishment  at  Mar 
garet's  unexpected  appearance,  but  she  happened 
to  be  in  a  resentful  mood,  and  disdained  to  ask  any 
questions,  though  burning  with  curiosity.  Mar 
garet  had  half  a  mind  to  be  equally  uncommuni 
cative,  but,  though  longing  to  fly  up-stairs,  she 
checked  the  rising  ungraciousness,  and  made  the 
needful  explanations. 

She  need  not  have  hurried  them  so,    Susie  was 


106  LOSS   AND   GAIN  J   OK, 

asleep,  though  even  then,  her  yearning  loneliness 
made  itself  apparent.  She  had  rolled  up  the  shawl, 
spread  over  her  for  additional  warmth,  into  the 
uncouth  semblance  of  a  huge  rag  doll,  which  was 
laid  on  the  pillow  beside  her ;  and  over  it  one  arm 
was  thrown  affectionately,  thus  cheating  herself 
into  slumber,  with  the  fancy  of  companionship. 
Seeing  her  thus,  in  the  broad  glare  of  noonday  for 
the  first  time  since  her  illness,  Margaret  was  star 
tled  at  the  change  a  few  days  had  made.  So  slight, 
so  wan,  so  wasted !  her  sister  almost  felt  for  a 
moment  that  she  had  come  but  to  see  her  die. 
Carefully  as  she  moved,  the  slight  sound  awoke 
the  sleeper. 

"  Oh,  Margaret !  "  There  was  such  unmistak 
able  joy  and  relief  in  the  recognition,  and  in  those 
unnaturally  large  eyes  that  seemed  to  question 
whether  it  was  not  a  dream  after  all. 

"  It's  really  I,  Susie !  and  I've  come  to  make 
you  a  nice  long  visit.  Can't  you  ask  me  to  take 
off  my  things.  See  what  I've  brought  you,  too." 

"  Oranges  ?  Oh,  I  did  want  an  orange  so 
much.  I  thought  about  it  all  day  yesterday,  and 
when  I  woke  in  the  night,  I  was  so  thirsty  !  But 
father  roasted  me  an  apple  this  morning.  "Wasn't 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  107 

he  good,  sister?  he  roasted  it  himself,  before  he 
went  away,  and  brought  it  up  to  me  on  the  china 
plate  I  used  to  have  when  I  was  a  little  girl. 
"Wasn't  he  good  ?  it  did  taste  so  nice ! " 

Margaret  was  touched  by  this  unlooked-for 
thoughtfulness  on  her  father's  part.  It  was  more 
like  his  old  self  than  any  thing  she  had  seen  for 
many  a  day. 

"  But  you  must  not  talk  so  much,  Susie.  You 
must  only  look  at  me,  and  be  as  still  as  that  young 
friend  of  yours  there  on  the  bed." 

Both  the  sisters  laughed,  Susie  a  little  ashamed 
at  her  own  invention.  "  But  I  was  so  lonesome," 
she  said  ;  "  and  it  was  really  a  great  deal  better 
than  nothing." 

The  afternoon  was  a  very  pleasant  one,  save 
the  pain  that  even  Margaret's  presence  could  not 
entirely  banish.  She  did  much  to  alleviate  it, 
however,  and  had  full  time  to  make  the  room  as 
comfortable  as  circumstances  would  allow ;  and 
Ruth,  coming  in  just  at  the  right  moment,  con 
structed  an  impromptu  easy-chair  with  quilts  and 
pillows,  where  Susie  nestled  while  she  aired  the 
bed  thoroughly,  and  made  it  up  soft  and  evenly, 


108  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

as  only  those  can  who  were  taught  bed-making  as 
an  accomplishment  in  the  olden  time. 

Ruth's  next  prescription  was  not  so  cheerfully 
followed.  She  declared  that  "all  those  tangles 
only  made  the  fever  worse,  and  would  have  the 
child  cross-eyed  by  the  time  she  was  well,  any 
way."  They  must  be  cut  off  at  once.  Susie  look 
ed  ruefully  at  the  "  snarls,"  as  Ruth  called  them, 
as  the  scissors  of  her  old  friend  clipped  away  about 
her  ears ;  and  Margaret  was  glad  that  the  duty 
did  not  devolve  on  her.  How  well  could  she  re 
member  seeing  their  mother  twining  the  short, 
silky  rings  over  her  thin  fingers,  as  the  baby  lay 
in  her  bosom !  and,  when  Ruth  said,  briskly, "  There, 
now !  that  looks  something  like ! "  Margaret  could 
not  enter  very  heartily  into  compliments  on  the 
improvement  she  had  effected.  It  was  a  trifling 
loss,  though,  when  there  was  so  much  gained,  for 
there  was  a  rapid  decrease  of  fever  from  that  hour, 
whether  the  result  of  the  doctor's  visits,  or  Ruth's, 
or  Margaret's  nursing.  Gaining  strength  was  an 
other  thing,  though ;  and,  if  the  illness  was  less 
alarming,  the  little  patient  needed  still  more  care 
and  soothing  than  before. 

A  whole  week  to  herself  and  Susie !    Such  an 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  109 

event  had  not  chanced  since  Margaret's  first  en 
trance  into  a  busy  life.  How  much  she  could  ac 
complish  on  their  hurriedly  repaired  wardrobe 
and,  fortunately,  she  had  provided  herself  with 
requisite  materials  long  before,  in  anticipation  of 
leisure  that  never  seemed  to  come.  But  Mrs. 
Grant's  jaded,  fretful  face  would  come  between 
her  and  the  satisfaction  with  which  she  looked 
forward  to  this  needed  interval.  "Why  should  it  ? 
There  were  no  good  turns  to  be  requited,  no  kind 
feelings  to  reciprocate.  "Was  not  her  time  as  truly 
her  own  as  it  had  been  Mr.  Churchill's  who  had 
given  it  to  her  ?  It  was  not  given,  after  all.  She 
would  have  to  pay  herself  for  the  lost  salary.  It 
was  doubly  her  own,  then.  If  the  children  had 
been  lovable,  it  would  have  been  easier  to  deny 
her  own  plans,  and  work  for  them.  And  here,  for 
the  first  time,  Margaret  saw  that  she  had  suffered 
herself  to  set  aside  her  duty.  Why  Were  they  not 
more  lovable  ?  She  had  made  faint  efforts  to  at 
tach  them  to  her,  to  train  them  into  more  gentle, 
thoughtful  ways,  and  had  been  rewarded  by  Mrs. 
Grant's  jealous  warnings  "  not  to  interfere  with  her 
children,  and  try  to  manage  them  as  she  did  all 
the  rest  of  the  house."  But  they  were  her  father's 


110  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

children  as  well  as  her  brothers ;  and  was  it  right 
to  turn  from  them  so  entirely  as  she  had  done  of 
late  ?  Perhaps  Susie  would  yet  be  taken  away  to 
teach  her  that  she  had  wronged  them  for  her  sake. 
Must  she  wait  to  have  the  cross  laid  upon  her  ? 
Was  there  not  a  divine  command  to  "  take  it  up," 
and  bear  it  patiently  ? 

Margaret  thought  over  all  these  things  as  she 
tried  to  fix  her  mind  on  a  well-worn  volume  of 
prayers  and  meditations,  which  had  been  endeared 
to  her  as  her  mother's  daily  companion,  as  well  as 
by  the  help  and  counsel  it  had  many  a  time  given 
in  her  need.  It  was  no  other  than  the  "  Imita 
tion"  of  the  devout  Thomas  a  Kempis,  he  who, 
being  dead,  yet  speaketh  hopefully  and  consoling 
ly  to  many  a  troubled  spirit.  Her  mother's  pencil 
had  marked  the  page  to  which  she  opened,  and 
Margaret  read : — • 

"Those  things  that  a  man  cannot  amend  in 
himself  or  others,  he  ought  to  suffer  patiently  un 
til  God  order  things  otherwise. 

"  Think  that  perhaps  it  is  better  so  for  thy  trial 
and  patience. 

"  Thou  oughtest  to  pray,  notwithstanding,  when 
thou  hast  such  impediments,  that  God  would  vouch- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  Ill 

safe  to  help  thee,  and  that  thou  mayest  bear  them 
kindly. 

"  Thou  must  learn  to  break  thine  own  will  in 
many  things,  if  thou  wilt  have  peace  and  concord 
with  others. 

"  God  hath  thus  ordered  it,  that  we  may  learn 
to  bear  one  another's  burdens,  for  no  man  is  with 
out  fault — no  man  but  hath  his  burden-^o  man 
is  sufficient  of  himself — no  man  wise  enough  of 
himself ;  but  we  ought  to  bear  with  one  another, 
comfort  and  help  one  another." 

"  My  proud  will !  that  is  it !  "  thought  Mar 
garet,  as  she  closed  the  book ;  and  she  felt  that 
she  had  been  helped  to  conquer  it  for  once,  at  least, 
as  she  sat  in  the  cold  chamber  by  Susie's  side,  that 
evening,  sewing  as  busily  on  a  half-finished  jacket 
for  one  of  the  boys  as  if  it  had  been  the  new  dress 
she  had  promised  her  sister  so  long  before. 

The  concession  was  not  lost,  for  Mrs.  Grant 
came  up  voluntarily,  and  sat  down  awhile  on  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  for  the  first  time  since  Susie's  sick 
ness  ;  and  Margaret  felt  more  than  the  glow  of 
duty  conquering  self-will  as  she  saw  the  pleasure 
this  little  token  of  interest  gave  the  long-neglected 
child. 


112  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 


CHAPTEK   VIII. 

"  WHAT  an  opening  and  shutting  of  doors  the 
boys  do  keep  up ! "  said  Margaret,  one  evening, 
almost  at  the  close  of  her  precious  week. 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  but  not  half  so  bad  as  they  do 
sometimes.  I  thought  I  heard  somebody  knock, 
though,  now." 

"  I  guess  not.  Your  little  ears  are  getting  alto 
gether  too  sharp,  lately." 

"  "Well,  I  thought  so ;  but  I  don't  know  anybody 
that  could  come  in  to  see  us  in  the  evening ;  do 
you  ?  "  Susie  looked  very  happy  and  comfortable 
among  her  pillows,  though  not  strong  enough  to 
sit  up  as  yet.  "  Don't  you  wish  the  boys  would 
go  to  bed  ?  and  then  we  should  be  just  as  still  as 
mice." 

"It's  high  time ;  but  I  suppose  mother  is  busy. 
I  remember,  now,  I  heard  her  say  there  was  bread 
to  mix.  I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  volunteer  ? " 


MAEOAEET'S  HOME.  113 

While  Susie  was  trying  to  say  "  I  suppose  so," 
cheerfully.  Master  "Washington  came  lumbering  up 
the  stairs,  and  sat  down  deliberately  on  the  top 
most  one,  swinging  his  feet  up  on  to  the  floor  before 
he  delivered  his  message. 

"  Mother  says  you  must  come  right  down,  Mar 
garet." 

Susie's  ire  rose  at  the  positive  summons.  It 
was  all  very  well  for  Margaret  to  offer  her  assist 
ance ;  but  she  did  not  approve  of  having  it  de 
manded.  "  What  for  ? "  she  asked,  rather  sharply, 
as  Margaret  began  to  put  her  work  aside. 

"  There's  a  man  wants  to  see  her.  Me  and  Al 
went  to  the  door." 

"  A  man  ? "  And  Margaret  dropped  her  spool 
and  scissors,  as  she  rose  hastily.  "  A  gentleman? 
Who  is  it  ? " 

"  Do'  know,"  said  the  youngster,  gravely. 
"  He 's  got  a  cane."  And  then,  as  if  a  sudden 
plan  had  seized  him  with  this  recollection,  he  be 
gan  sliding  downwards  as  fast  as  possible. 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Margaret,  unaccountably 
fluttered  by  such  an  unusual  occurrence.  "  Can't 
you  tell  me  what  he  looks  like  ? " 

"  Jest  like  a  man.     I'm  goin'  to  ride  on  his 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OE, 

cane,  too ;  see  if  I  don't ! "  And  the  unsatisfac 
tory  messenger  put  himself  beyond  the  reach  of 
further  questioning. 

Margaret  could  think  of  but  one  person  in  the 
world,  of  course  the  most  unlikely  one  to  seek  her 
in  her  own  house.  Nevertheless,  she  stopped  to 
smooth  her  hair,  and  rearrange  her  black  silk 
apron.  She  charged  herself  with  folly  as  she  did 
so  ;  but,  nevertheless,  her  heart  beat  fast,  and  her 
cheek  flushed.  She  wondered  how  it  looked  down 
stairs,  whether  the  tea  things  were  washed,  and 
the  baby's  clothes  gathered  up  and  put  away.  She 
wished  she  had  thought  to  offer  her  assistance  a 
little  earlier,  and  the  boys  would  have  been  out  of 
the  way  besides.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she 
wished  they  could  afford  to  have  a  fire  occasion 
ally  in  the  little  narrow,  unused  front  room. 

After  all  this  flutter  of  expectation,  Mr.  "Wood, 
her  distinguished-looking  fellow-clerk,  rose  to  meet 
her,  with  one  of  his  most  overwhelming  bows,  and 
evidently  "  got  up  "  elaborately  for  the  occasion. 
His  hair  and  whiskers  were  redolent  of  Roussel's 
last  compound  ;  his  boots  shone  with  an  equal 
gloss.  A  snow-white  handkerchief  just  peeped 
from  the  breast-pocket  of  his  overcoat ;  and  he 


MABGAKET'S  HOME.  115 

wore,  as  lie  always  did  when  "  on  parade,"  lemon- 
colored  kid-gloves,  that  gave  the  impression  that 
his  hand  must  have  been  melted,  and  run  into 
them,  from  their  exact  fit.  So  distinguishing  a 
trait  was  the  last,  that  Ellen  Boyne,  famous  for 
sobriquets,  had  knighted  him  as  "  Count  Lemon," 
much  to  his  annoyance.  Yet  there  was  not  a  girl 
of  her  set  but  was  delighted  to  exhibit  herself  be 
side  him,  in  "Walnut  Street,  on  Sunday  afternoon. 

Margaret's  worst  fears,  as  regarded  les  enfans 
terribles,  were  confirmed.  They  were  in  loud  dis 
pute  over  the  possession  of  the  taper  walking-stick 
Mr.  Wood  had  unguardedly  laid  aside  with  his 
hat ;  and,  though  he  endeavored  to  appear  several 
shades  more  elegant  than  usual,  it  was  plain  that 
his  mind  was  distracted  by  its  threatened  demoli 
tion  between  them. 

"  I  got  it  first !  "  shouted  Al,  holding  firmly  by 
the  ornamental  head,  a  delicately  wrought  hand 
in  bronze.  It  might  have  been  moulded  after  Mr. 
"Wood's  own. 

"  I  don't  care ;  I  meant  to  have  it  up-stairs  ; 
didn't  I  ?  Didn't  I  say  I  was  coming  right  down 
to  ride  on  it  ? " 

Mr.  "Wood  endeavored  to  compose  himself. 


116  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  He  had  taken  the  liberty,"  he  said  ("  done 
her  the  honor  "  was  expressed  by  his  manner),  "  of 
calling  to  see  where  Miss  Grant  had  secluded  her 
self  so  long.  She  conld  have  no  idea  what  a  wide 
chasm  her  absence  had  made  to  every  one,  her 
humble  servant  included." 

Mrs.  Grant,  listening  intently,  nodded  her  head 
to  her  husband,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Did  you  hear 
that  ?  I  told  you  so,"  and  administered  a  slap  at 
random  between  the  disputants,  whose  movements 
disturbed  her  only  so  far  as  they  made  the  visitor's 
elegant  accents  rather  indistinct. 

Disappointment  and  annoyance  combined  to 
make  Margaret's  manner  even  colder  than  she  in 
tended,  as  she  seized  the  first  pause  to  introduce 
her  guest  to  her  father  and  mother. 

Mr.  Wood  scarcely  condescended  to  acknowl 
edge  a  ceremony  so  useless,  so  far  as  he  was  con 
cerned.  As  Margaret  seated  herself,  he  turned 
his  chair  directly  back  to  Mrs.  Grant's,  and  con 
tinued  his  complimentary  discourse. 

"Washington,  having  become  the  victor,  by  the 
undignified  stratagem  of  a  pinch  and  a  trip  mount 
ed  his  charger  in  triumph,  and  careered  around 
the  room,  adding  discord  to  disorder. 


MAEGAEET'S  HOME.  11Y 

"What  did  Miss  Grant  do  with  herself  on 
Sundays  ? "  was  the  next  insinuating  inquiry. 
"  Never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her,  though 
usually  favored  by  a  bow  from  most  of  the  other 
young  ladies.  Yery  nice  set  of  girls,  ours,  particu 
larly  Miss  Long.  Did  Miss  Grant  visit  Miss  Long? 
She  lived  in  such  a  remarkably  genteel  neighbor 
hood." 

Margaret  understood  perfectly  well  this  indirect 
allusion  to  the  obscurity  of  her  own  residence,  as 
well  as  the  furtive  glances  sent  about  the  room 
over  the  top  of  his  hat,  which  he  had  thought 
best  to  repossess  himself  of.  As  to  his  appearance 
under  her  father's  roof,  and  his  conversation  gen 
erally,  he  expected  her  to  be  overwhelmed — she 
was,  with  vexation.  Though  she  did  not  in  her 
heart  respect  Mr.  Wood's  opinion,  it  was  very 
mortifying  to  be  obliged  to  receive  her  first  gentle 
man  visitor  with  such  surroundings,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  unmannerly  urchins,  who  filled  up  the 
pauses,  and  interrupted  the  flow  of  his  remarks 
by  incessant  clamor. 

The  baby's  clothes  still  lay  as  he  had  kicked 
them  off;  the  bread-trough,  covered  by  the  ironing- 
blanket,  stood  in  front  of  the  stove ;  not  a  chair 


118  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

was  in  its  place ;  and  her  father,  in  whom  her 
family  pride  centred,  looked  unusually  shabby 
with  his  unshaven  chin  and  worst  suit  of  clothes, 
as  he  stooped  over  one  of  his  innumerable  diagrams, 
drawing  by  the  light  of  a  simple  oil  lamp.  How 
could  she  feel  otherwise  than  chagrined,  knowing 
that  the  whole  scene  would  probably  be  reported 
with  embellishments  for  the  amusement  of  her 
companions,  Addy  Long  especially  ? 

No  one  is  quite  invulnerable  to  the  opinions  of 
others ;  and  perhaps  we  care  most  when  we  expect 
judgment  by  a  false  standard. 

Mr.  Grant  laid  down  his  papers  with  something 
of  his  old  good-breeding  in  his  manner,  very  dif 
ferent  from  his  wife's.  She  openly  resented  their 
visitor's  incivility  when — notwithstanding  Mr. 
Grant's  movement — he  continued  to  direct  his 
conversation  exclusively  to  Margaret,  and  com 
menced  talking  to  her  husband,  in  a  very  loud 
tone,  on  various  household  topics,  calculated  to 
interest  no  one  but  themselves. 

"  Did  Miss  Grant  ever  visit  the  theatre  ?  "  re 
sumed  Mr.  "Wood,  after  a  break  in  his  narrative  of 
what  had  "  been  going  on  "  in  Arch  Street  during 
her  absence. 


MABGARET'S  HOME.  119 

"  No  ?  Was  it  possible !  He  should  be  delight 
ed  to  escort  her  some  evening,  or  to  the  opera.  The 
season  opened  in  the  holidays,  as  she  was  probably 
aware,  with  an  excellent  troupe.  And  there  were 
the  concerts  ;  the  Philharmonic  was  extremely 
fashionable ;  everybody  went  to  the  Philharmonic ; 
Miss  Long  had  sometimes  given  him  the  pleasure 
of  her  society  there.  But  perhaps  Miss  Grant  did 
not  care  for  music." 

On  the  contrary,  she  was  very  fond  of  it ;  and 
Mr.  Wood  felt  that  he  had  achieved  a  triumph 
when  she  was  forced  to  acknowledge  that  she  Jiad 
not  heard  one  of  the  distinguished  artists  whose 
names  he  so  flowingly  rehearsed. 

Mr.  Wood  was  at  once  original  and  consoling, 
as  he  responded,  "  Better  late  than  never."  He 
might  apply  it  to  his  call  on  Miss  Grant,  though 
he  had  frequently  promised  himself  the  pleasure. 
Snap  !  went  the  treacherous  reed  on  which  Mr. 
Wood  (figuratively)  leaned.  Washington,  having 
resigned  it  to  his  brother,  was  hanging  about  and 
eying  suspiciously  the  trinkets  suspended  to  the 
resplendent  watch-chain  displayed  on  Mr.  Wood's 
satin  vest ;  and  Al,  left  to  himself,  had  been  occu 
pied  in  testing  its  strength  by  placing  it  between 


120  LOSS  AND  GAIN',    OK, 

two  chairs,  and  riding  up  and  down,  delighted 
with  the  "  spring." 

Mr.  Wood  declared  that  it  was  not  of  the  least 
consequence,  in  reply  to  Margaret's  distressed  apol-" 
ogy  ;  but  his  face  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  try 
the  "  spring  "  of  the  remainder  on  the  shoulders 
of  the  offender,  and,  perhaps  for  fear  of  further 
damage  to  his  person  or  possessions,  soon  after 
rose  to  go.  "  He  was  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  tear 
himself  away  so  soon,  but  a  pressing  engagement 
made  it  unavoidable.  Was  there  any  thing  he  could 
do  for  Miss  Grant  in  her  much-to-be-regretted  re 
tirement  !  She  must  not  hesitate  to  command 
him." 

He  evidently  anticipated  that  she  would  accom 
pany  him  to  the  door,  and  showed  his  disappoint 
ment  when  Mr.  Grant  took  up  the  lamp  to  guide 
him  through  the  narrow,  unlighted  hall.  The 
departure  was  worthy  of  the  advent.  Margaret 
was  to  feel  herself  extremely  flattered  by  the 
warmth  of  his  adieus  to  herself ;  but  he  stalked 
past  Mrs.  Grant  without  notice,  and  did  not  even 
vouchsafe  a  civil  good-night  to  her  father,  who 
patiently  held  the  lamp  aloft  in  the  passage. 

"  "Well,  Margaret,  so  you've  got  a  beau  at  last," 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  121 

said  Mrs.  Grant,  before  lie  was  fairly  out  of  hear 
ing.  "It's  high  time.  Hush  your  racket,  and 
be  off  to  bed  this  minute  !  " — the  order  being  ad 
dressed  to  the  boys  ;  and  Margaret  could  but  think 
that  it  would  have  been  just  as  well  if  it  had  been 
given  and  enforced  a  little  earlier  in  the  evening. 

"  Wa'n't  them  gold  things  to  his  chain  splen 
did  ? "  commented  "Washington,  as  his  mother  seiz 
ed  him  by  the  collar  of  his  jacket  to  facilitate  his 
movements.  "  I  mean  to  have  'em  next  time." 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  his  manners,  though," 
pursued  Mrs.  Grant.  "  He  might  have  run  his 
head  against  the  wall,  for  all  me,  if  Pd,  been  your 
father,  before  I'd  'a'  shown  him  out." 

Margaret  went  back  to  Susie  more  depressed 
than  she  had  been  since  her  week  at  home  com 
menced.  A  vague  feeling  that  something  uncom 
fortable  had  happened,  and  was  still  to  grow  out 
of  this  visit,  hung  over  her.  Susie  was  half  sitting 
up  in  bed,  awaiting  her  eagerly. 

"  How  long  he  did  stay  !  Was  it  Mr.  Chur 
chill,  sister  ? " 

"What  had  put  that  into  the  child's  mind  ?  She 
could  not  have  read  Margaret's  fluttering  thoughts 

as  she  left  the  room. 
C 


122  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  Mr.  Churchill  ?  No,  indeed,  Susie  !  What 
would  he  come  here  for  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  !  I  'm  so  glad  !  "  And  she 
fell  back  on  her  pillows  contentedly. 

"  Why  ? "  asked  Margaret,  still  more  surprised. 
"Glad  of  what?" 

"  Because  I  knew  the  voice  right  away ;  and 
it  was  the  man  who  teazed  me  so  at  the  store,  and 
laughed  at  me.  I  shouldn't  like  it  to  be  Mr. 
Churchill." 

Susie  did  not  explain  "  why  ; "  and  Margaret 
did  not  ask  her ;  but  she  would  not  have  liked  it 
to  be  Mr.  Churchill  either. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  123 


CHAPTER   IX. 

IT  was  almost  dark.  The  clouds,  after  veering 
and  floating  about  all  day,  had  closed  down  with 
an  ashen,  sombre  hue  in  the  twilight ;  and  snow 
began  to  fall  finely  and  evenly,  as  if  the  storm 
intended  to  come  to  something  of  consequence — 
a  rare  thing  for  the  climate  and  the  season,  a  fine 
thing  for  boys  rejoicing  in  their  first  pair  of  boots, 
or  for  young  ladies  looking  forward  to  a  real  sleigh- 
ride.  It  was  watched  with  this  delightful  antici 
pation  by  two  gay  young  creatures  from  the 
windows  of  a  wide,  old-fashioned  house  in  Arch 
Street. 

"  My  dear  child !  " — and  a  small  head,  made 
the  most  of  by  broad  bandeaux  evidently  arranged 
with  especial  care,  made  its  appearance  from  be 
hind  a  heavily  embroidered  lace  curtain — "  do  see 
it  come  down  !  I  hope  it  will  last  till  Christmas. 
Snow  makes  every  thing  so  lively  in  the  holidays ! " 


124  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

A  momentary  apparition  of  a  fair  face,  with 
soft  large  curls  half  hiding  it,  looked  out  for  a 
moment  from  the  opposite  recess. 

"  Sleighing,  you  mean  ?  Yes,  indeed !  "What 
are  you  all  going  to  do  on  Christmas  ? " 

"  Dear  knows  !  "What  do  you  expect  to  get  ? 
Papa  keeps  watch  over  mother,  or  I  know  she'd 
let  out  my  present.  I  know  she's  dying  to  tell  me 
now." 

"  I  haven't  an  idea  ;  but  I've  set  my  heart  on 
furs,  my  stone-marten  is  so  shabby ;  besides,  no 
body  wears  stone-marten  now." 

The  subject  seemed  to  be  suggestive.  Both 
looked  out,  and  watched  the  snow  again,  and  the 
few  foot  passengers,  most  of  them  gentlemen 
returning  from  business,  in  a  silence  that  was 
wonderful,  considering  that  they  were  not  above 
eighteen,  either  of  them,  intimate  friends,  and  had 
not  seen  each  other  before  for  a  day  and  a  half. 

"  "What  in  the  world  can  keep  Agnes  ? "  said 
the  lady  of  the  bandeaux,  at  last.  "  We  shall  be 
late,  as  sure  as  the  world,  Joe." 

"  And  your  brother !  "  suggested  Miss  Jose 
phine,  whose  watch  was  confined  solely  to  hats  and 
overcoats,  while  her  friend  Kate  had  been  counting 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  125 

the  minutes  between  passing  omnibuses.  It  was  the 
night  of  the  first  Musical  Fund  concert,  the  open 
ing  of  the  season ;  and  their  toilets  were  already 
completed.  ISTo  wonder  that  they  were  impatient 
for  the  arrivals  that  were  to  signal  the  tea-bell ! 
"  How  late  it  is !  "  And  a  tiny  watch  was  drawn 
out  for  the  fifth  time,  at  least,  within  the  half  hour. 

"  Suppose  we  practise  a  little  while  ?  That  will 
make  the  time  go  faster." 

Josephine  made  an  impatient,  restless  move 
ment. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  settle  myself  to  any  thing  when 
I'm  going  out !  I  haven't  been  able  to  do  a  thing 
all  day." 

"  It's  very  stupid  and  unkind  in  both  of  them," 
said  Kate.  How  she  would  have  done  battle  if  any 
one  else  had  presumed  to  say  the  same !  "  Here 
comes  Agnes  at  last,  I  do  believe."  And  she  flew 
into  the  hall,  anticipating  her  sister's  ring  by  throw 
ing  open  the  door,  and  pulling  her  in  with  both 
hands.  A  gentleman  came  up  the  steps  at  the 
same  moment,  knocking  the  snow  lightly  from  his 
boots  as  he  entered. 

"  Tea,  right  away !  "  called  the  younger  sister  to 
the  servant,  who  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 


126  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  What  could  you  be  thinking  of,  Lewie  ?  Jose 
phine  and  I  have  been  waiting  this  half  hour.  The 
carriage  will  be  here  before  you  are  ready." 

"  Plenty  of  time,  Kate,"  said  her  brother,  quiet 
ly,  as  gentlemen  always  do,  no  matter  how  much 
their  tardiness  has  flurried  you,  or  how  few  minutes 
are  between  you  and  a  positive  engagement. 

"  How  delightfully  warm  the  hall  is  !  "  Agnes 
said,  throwing  her  victorine  over  her  arm,  and 
looking  around  with  a  light  shiver,  more  sugges 
tive  of  past  than  present  discomfort.  "  And  the 
parlor  looks  so  cheerful !  Really,  Kate,  I  don't 
think  you  know  how  pleasant  your  home  is !  you 
are  always  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  out  of  it." 

"  You  can  have  it  all  to  yourself,  then,  this 
evening.  Father  and  mother  have  gone  to  Anne's 
to  tea." 

"  That's  too  bad !  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  leav 
ing  you  all  alone,"  said  her  brother,  quickly. 

Agnes  looked  up  with  a  bright,  fond  smile. 

"  Thank  you,  Lewis ;  but  you  know  I  never 
mind  it.  I'm  glad  father  has  persuaded  mother 
to  go.  I  think  I  had  better  send  for  them  before 
the  carriage  goes  for  you.  I  shall  not  care  in 
the  least." 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  127 

«  Truly  ? " 

"  Truly.  I'm  going  to  make  out  my  reports. 
It  will  be  a  nice  opportunity  ;  and  I  like  to  do  it 
when  I  have  my  visits  all  fresh  in  my  mind." 

"  So  you've  been  among  your  poor  people,  this 
afternoon.  You're  a  good  creature."  And  he 
stopped  to  smile  and  bow  to  Miss  Josephine 
Wright,  as  she  appeared  in  the  parlor-door,  think 
ing,  as  he  did  so,  how  very  pretty  and  animated 
she  was. 

Never  was  there  a  more  affectionate  family 
than  the  Churchill,  for  this  is  their  home ;  and  yet, 
somehow,  these  young  people  enjoyed  their  tea- 
table  chat  amazingly  in  the  absence  of  their  elders 
and  betters.  There  was  a  certain  novelty  and  sense 
of  freedom  to  talk  what  nonsense  they  liked,  with 
Agnes  at  the  tea-tray,  and  Lewis  seated  in  his  fa 
ther's  arm-chair  directly  opposite.  There  was  very 
little  appetite  for  the  cold  tongue  and  wafer-like 
biscuit  on  the  part  of  Kate  and  Josephine,  how 
ever,  who  were  listening  every  moment  for  the 
roll  of  the  carriage.  They  began  to  think  Agnes 
and  Lewis  never  would  be  satisfied. 

Then  came  the  hooding  and  cloaking  in  the 
hall,  with  all  manner  of  jests  and  compliments — 


128  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Josephine  looking  prettier  than  ever  in  the  tassel- 
led  rigolette  and  pink  cashmere  wrap,  which  she 
called  a  cloak,  though  it  was  well  that  she  had 
only  to  cross  the  pavement,  if  she  put  her  sole 
dependence  in  it  for  shelter.  The  heedless  Kate, 
though  she  had  groaned  over  their  detention,  dis 
covered,  at  the  last  moment,  that  she  had  neither 
gloves  nor  handkerchief,  and  that  she  had  left  her 
fan  on  the  table  in  the  dining-room ;  finally,  that 
Lewis  had  no  opera-glass ;  and  there  was  no  earth 
ly  use  in  going  to  a  concert  without  a  glass. 

"  Do  you  hear  with  your  eyes,  Kate  ? "  asked 
Agnes. 

"  To  see  you  the  better,  my  dear,"  sang  Kate, 
as  she  snatched  the  box  from  the  servant,  and  ran 
down  the  steps  to  the  carriage,  where  Josephine 
impatiently  awaited  her. 

So  they  were  gone  at  last ;  and  "  sister  Agnes," 
as  she  was  usually  called  by  them,  turned  to  her 
own  room  for  a  quiet  evening.  There  was  no  self- 
denial  involved  in  its  seclusion  ;  it  was  oftener  the 
reverse — that  she  gave  up  its  stillness,  regretfully, 
for  the  family  circle,  or  what  she  really  had  very 
little  fancy  for — general  society. 

The  room  seemed  to  welcome  her,  as  she  enter- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  129 

ed  it,  with  a  glow  of  warmth  and  comfort,  the 
cheerful  fire  in  the  grate  throwing  its  red  light 
over  the  close-drawn  hangings  of  the  windows,  and 
the  white  counterpane,  and  still  whiter  pillows  of 
the  bed.  The  gas  was  shaded  just  as  she  liked  it, 
the  glare  softened,  and  thrown  down  upon  the 
round  table  with  its  books,  the  rosewood  desk,  and 
many  pretty  fanciful  appliances  for  work  or  study. 
She  had  been  an  invalid  when  she  learned  to  love 
her  room  so  much ;  but  there  was  no  trace  of  it 
in  the  arrangements  now,  aside  from  the  low  easy- 
chair  on  one  side  of  the  fire,  and  a  couch,  almost 
too  comfortable -for  health,  occupying  the  opposite 
corner. 

"  Sister's  room  "  was  a  favorite  resting-place  for 
the  whole  family.  Mrs.  Churchill  came  there  to 
discuss  household  plans  and  perplexities  ;  Kate 
flitted  in  and  out  all  hours  of  the  day  ;  and  Lewis 
found  the  evening  indefinitely  prolonged  when  he 
claimed  privileged  admittance  after  the  breaking 
up  of  the  family  circle. 

She  was  wearied  both  in  mind  and  body  ;  her 
walk  had  been  unusually  long  ;  and  the  tea-table 
chat  had  left  an  uncomfortable  impression,  though 

it  might  be  only  fatigue,  after  all  ;  for,  as  she 
6* 


130  LOSS   AND   GAIN  ;   OK, 

leaned  back  in  the  easy-chair,  shading  her  eyes 
from  the  firelight,  an  attitude  habitual '  to  her,  she 
came  to  think  only  of  the  comforts  and  blessings 
of  her  lot.  She  had  laid  out  the  printed  blanks 
for  her  monthly  reports  to  the  good  rector  of  their 
parish ;  and,  though  she  read  over  the  sentence 
printed  warningly  at  their  head — "  It  is  required 
of  a  steward  that  he  be  found  faithful " — she  sank 
into  a  reverie  ;  while  the  snow  fell  noiselessly 
without,  muffling  all  ruder  sounds. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  131 


CHAPTEE    X. 

THE  evening  flew  by  with  swift  unconscious 
ness.  Agnes  could  scarcely  believe  it  had  gone, 
when  the  little  bustle  below  announced  the  early 
arrival  of  her  father  and  mother ;  and  in  due  time 
the  concert-goers  made  their  appearance,  Kate,  as 
usual,  in  a  great  state  of  excitement,  describing 
audience  and  performers  in  a  breath. 

"  We  had  capital  seats,  after  all,  sister  Agnes 
— side  seats.  You  don't  know  how  Lewis  kept  us 
waiting,  mother." 

"  For  my  gloves  or  fan,  which  ? " 

"  Well,  but  you  did.  I  should  have  been  all  in 
order,  if  you  had  come  in  good  season.  But  we 
had  capital  seats,  after  all — next  to  the  Flag  party, 
only  think  !  Oh,  it  was  as  good  as  a  play  to  watch 
them !  Mrs.  Flag  waddling  in,  with  Jack  Blair 
trotting  after,  as  if  he  had  been  a  spaniel  or  a  foot 
man,  carrying  her  opera-glass  with  her  everlasting 


132  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

blue  hood  over  his  arm.  I  wonder  if  any  one  ever 
saw  Mr.  Flag.  Is  there  any  Mr.  Flag,  papa,  or  is 
he  a  myth  ?  Lewis  was  devoted  to  Helen  Florence 
in  the  recess.  My  dear  Agnes,  you  should  have 
seen  him  !  made  Joe  as  jealous  as  possible.  Oh,  I 
wish  you  could  have  heard  Truffi  sing  that  Kieci 
Waltz !  Joe  hardly  spoke  to  Lewis  coming  home. " 

"  Pshaw  !  "  interrupted  Lewis. 

"  You  know  she  didn't ;  of  course,  I  understood 
it.  She  broke  her  new  sandal-wood  fan,  she  flirt 
ed  it  so  hard  to  show  she  didn't  care." 

"  And  Kate  had  five  gentlemen  around  her  at 
once,"  said  Lewis,  in  self-defence,  for  Agnes  was 
looking  at  him  with  an  inquiring  scrutiny. 

"I  dare  say."  And  Mr.  Churchill,  senior, 
gave  that  low,  mellow,  but  all-pervading  laugh 
that  was  so  peculiar  to  him,  betokening  satisfac 
tion  with  self  and  the  world  in  general.  "  What 
a  puss  ! "  It  was  plain  to  see  what  delight  he  took 
in  the  conquests  of  his  peculiar  pet  by  the  pinch 
he  gave  her  white  arm  shining  through  the  lace  of 
her  flowing  sleeves. 

"  She  kept  them  all  going  at  once,"  added  her 
brother,  wickedly,  "  like  Signor  Blitz  and  his  half 
dozen  dancing  plates." 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  133 

"  A  great  pity  if  Joe  and  I  couldn't  have  two 
and  a  half  apiece.  Besides,  little  Martin  only 
counts  half  a  one  at  any  time.  He  says  he  shall  be 
at  riding-school  in  the  morning  ;  and  that  reminds 
me — Joe  is  coming  in  early  to  try  that  duo  in  Sem- 
iramide  they  sung  to-night.  Oh,  Agnes,  I  wish 
you  could  have  heard  it !  How  well  Truffi  dresses ! 
doesn't  she,  Lewis?  though  you  don't  know,  of 
course.  Some  of  them  get  themselves  up  abomi 
nably.  I  saw  Pierson  Hunter's  head  popping  up, 
every  now  and  then,  from  that  orchestra  trap-door 
arrangement.  Didn't  you,  Lewis  ?  Joe  says  he 
was  at  the  Birneys,  last  Friday,  and  actually 
danced." 

The  silvery  chime  of  the  mantel-clock  broke 
in  on  this  lively  tirade. 

"  Eleven  !  is  it  possible  ?  Well,  I  must  march 
off  to  bed,  if  I  am  to  be  up  so  early.  Good  night, 
mother !  good  night,  papa  !  "  And  she  stooped  to 
kiss  him  heartily  before  she  vanished. 

"  "What  a  chatterbox !  "  said  Lewis,  as  the 
door  closed  upon  her  graceful  exit.  "  She  look 
ed  so  well,  to  night,  I  was  really  proud  of  her.  " 

"  She  always  will  be  careless,  though,"  sighed 
the  prudent  Mrs.  Churchill.  "  Only  see  how  she 


134:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

leaves  her  things  around — the  piano  and  sofa 
fairly  strewn  with  them ;  and  there  are  her  carriage 
boots  on  the  mantel-piece." 

"  Never  mind  !  I  will  take  up  the  entire  collec 
tion,"  said  Agnes,  rising,  with  a  sudden  recollec 
tion  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

As  she  passed  her  father,  he  drew  her  down, 
and  kissed  her  forehead.  "  Good-night,  dear 
daughter !  "  And  there  was  a  shade  more  of  ear 
nestness  in  his  tone  than  when  addressing  the  pet 
ted  Kate. 

She  was  scarcely  seated  at  her  desk  to  note 
down  the  more  needful  memoranda  of  her  visits 
when  Lewis  knocked  for  admission. 

"  Busy  ?  I  did  not  think  you  would  work  so 
late ;  and  somehow  an  evening  never  seems  fin 
ished  until  we  have  had  our  talk." 

"  Come  in  ;  the  morning  will  do  quite  as  well, 
perhaps  better  than  to-night ;  I  am  quite  stupid." 
And  she  pushed  the  papers  away  to  show  him  that 
he  was  welcome.  Certainly  all  the  elements  for  a 
cozy  chat  were  there  ;  and  Lewis  stretched  himself 
lazily  by  the  fire,  and  absently  took  up  a  paper 
knife  by  way  of  a  screen. 

"  "What  made  you  so  sober  to-night,  Agnes  ?  " 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  135 

"Where?  at  the  tea-table?  I  was  thinking 
of  a  family  I  had  seen  this  afternoon,  especially 
of  a  young  girl  scarcely  older  than  Kate,  and 
what  thoughtless,  purposeless  lives  these  two  were 
leading,  when  so  many  of  their  own  age  had  actu 
ally  commenced  '  the  struggle  for  life.'  " 

"  You  do  not  like  Josephine !  " 

"  I  do  not  dislike  her,"  said  Agnes,  evasively. 
"  She  is  certainly  amiable  and  lady-like,  but  as 
thoughtless  as  Kate  herself,  and — " 

"And  what?" 

"  Characterless.  If  there  was  necessity,  Kate's 
natural  energy  would  exert  itself.  I  do  not  think 
Josephine  has  the  same  decision  and  strength  of 
purpose  to  fall  back  upon." 

"  What  about  that  family  you  saw  to-day  ?  " 
asked  Lewis,  changing  the  subject  abruptly. 

Agnes's  face  lighted. 

"  Oh,  I  told  you  something  about  them  two  or 
three  weeks  ago,  or  of  one  of  them — a  little  girl 
with  very  wistful  eyes,  and  such  fair  hair." 

"  In  tangles,  that  might  be  curls  for  the  brush 
ing,"  said  Lewis,  quoting  from  the  previous  de 
scription. 

"  Yes ;  that's  the  one." 


136  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  She  promised  to  come  to  Sunday-school,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  didn't  she  ?  " 

"  She  wanted  to  come.  The  child  was  anxious 
enough ;  but  there  was  a  mother  to  be  asked. 
They  live  in  Shippen  Court." 

"  What !  below  Almond  Street  ?  Why,  Agnes, 
what  walks  you  take  !  You  ought  to  arrange  it 
so  as  to  have  the  carriage.  It's  out  of  the  world." 

"  Not  quite.  Besides,  I  patronize  omnibuses 
liberally.  Ruth  Norton,  that  nice  little  old  body 
you  know,  told  me  she  was  sick.  I  stopped  there 
to  inquire  the  way." 

"  Just  what  mother  said  you  would  happen  on 
after  you  went  out  at  dinner-time.  She  had  quite 
a  little  fever  about  you.  Some  one  had  been  tell 
ing  her  there  was  much  sickness  in  the  lower  part 
of  the  city.  Really,  Agnes,  you  must  be  careful ! 
What  in  the  world  should  we  all  do  without 
you  ? " 

A  bright,  affectionate  glance  thanked  him  for 
his  brotherly  solicitude,  as  Agnes  went  on  to 
prove  there  was  no  necessity  for  caution :  "  It  was 
nothing  infectious,  or  I  should  not  have  considered 
it  right  to  go.  A  lung  fever,  or  pleurisy,  some 
thing  of  that  sort.  The  poor  little  thing  had  over- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  13 7 

worked  herself.  It  seems  there  are  younger  chil 
dren  in  the  family,  and  she  has  strained  herself 
taking  care  of  them.  I  saw  the  mother  first — 
not  her  own  mother.  She  opened  the  door,  and 
held  it  just  so  wide,  with  a  baby  in  her  arms,  a 
cross,  sour-looking  child." 

"  Didn't  she  ask  you  in  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  few  do  that !  I'm  quite  used  to  it  now. 
I  asked  if  I  might  come  in  ;  and  she  looked  half 
inclined  to  refuse  me  then.  I  did  not  think  I 
should  see  the  child  at  all.  Susie  her  name  is." 

"  So  I  suppose  you  humbly  asked  permission 
for  that,  too,"  said  Lewis,  laughing  at  the  idea  of 
his  sister's  seeking  a  favor  where  he  considered  her 
conferring  a  very  great  one. 

"  I  managed  to  see  the  child,  at  any  rate,  and 
was  more  than  repaid  for  the  ungraciousness  of 
the  mother  by  the  pleasure  it  gave  her.  Oh, 
Lewis,  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that  little  pale 
face  light  up  ?  I  was  struck  in  a  moment  by  the 
difference  between  up  stairs  and  down.  The  room 
was  no  better,  not  so  good  ;  but  it  positively  had 
an  air  of  elegance.  Now,  don't  laugh ;  not  in 
furniture — I  don't  mean  that,  but  the  arrange 
ments." 


138  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

"  Komantic  to  the  last !  How  much  am  I  to 
allow  for  embellishments  in  these  narratives  of 
yours  ? " 

"  Well,  let  me  tell  you.  There  was  a  dressing- 
table  for  one  thing — one  of  those  pine  half  circles, 
I  suppose  the  foundation  was,  but  covered  nicely 
with  white,  and  arranged  as  carefully  as  mine  is 
there." 

Agnes  glanced  contentedly  around  the  room, 
and  thought  of  the  contrast  between  it  and  this 
unknown  young  girl's  humble  chamber.  She  had 
seen  it  precisely  as  it  was  left  by  Margaret  in  the 
morning :  the  curtains  of  cheapest  white  muslin, 
looped  neatly  back ;  the  bits  of  carpet  on  each 
side  of  the  bed  arranged  smooth  and  straight ;  the 
books — Margaret's  only  treasures — in  perfect  order 
on  the  swinging  shelf ;  while  a  willow  work-basket 
stood  before  the  old-fashioned  low  wooden  chair, 
half  turned  to  the  window.  As  Agnes  had  said, 
despite  its  plainness  and  poverty,  there  was  a 
home-like  air  through  the  room,  suggestive  of  nat 
ural  taste  and  refinement,  scarcely  less  than  that 
exhibited  in  the  pretty  trifles  she  had  gathered 
about  her. 

Lewis  was  the  regular  recipient  of  his  sister's 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  139 

adventures  among  her  little  flock,  and  listened 
at  first  chiefly  because  he  saw  she  was  greatly 
interested  in  this  new  member  of  it ;  but  presently 
the  playful  carelessness  of  his  expression  changed 
when  she  came  to  Susie's  artless  revelations.  A 
visitor  all  to  herself  was  a  great  event  to  the  child 
— above  all,  such  a  visitor !  one  she  had  thought 
so  much  about,  and  to  whom  she  could  dwell  on 
Margaret's  numberless  perfections,  instinctively 
sure  of  sympathy.  "  Margaret  had  made  the 
room  so  neat ;  she  always  kept  it  just  so ;  she 
could  not  bear  to  have  things  lying  about ;  and 
she  had  nursed  her  so  beautifully,  and  sewed  so 
much  for  mother,  and  found  time  to  read  to  her, 
too." 

"  And  such  books,  Lewis !  "  His  sister's  nat 
ural  enthusiasm  rose  with  her  theme.  "  I  looked 
to  see  what  they  were,  and  I  was  never  more  sur 
prised  ;  such  books  as  we  like — Thomas  a  Kempis ! 
only  think !  and  Jeremy  Taylor !  half  a  dozen 
other  volumes  that  I  have  here  in  the  book-case  ; 
besides  Susie's  favorite,  '  The  Parent's  Assistant,' 
you  used  to  like  so  much  when  you  were  a  boy." 

" '  Lazy  Lawrence,'  and  '  The  Little  Mer 
chants  ! '  I  haven't  thought  of  them  in  an  age.  I 


140  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

suppose  you  saw  this  wonderful  Margaret  ? " 
And,  as  he  spoke  the  name,  a  sudden  recollection 
flashed  upon  him  of  those  same  wistful  eyes  ap 
pealing  to  him  from  his  clerk's  teasing,  and  of  the 
Margaret  who  had  greeted  the  child  so  affection 
ately. 

"  No  ;  but  I  want  you  to  point  her  out  to  me 
the  next  time  I  come  to  the  store.  I  was  quite 
astonished  when  her  sister  wound  up  the  history 
by  telling  me  she  was  in  it,  and  how  good  Mr. 
Churchill  had  been  '  to  let  sister  stay  home  a 
whole  week,  and  nurse  her,  when  the  other  gentle 
man  said  No.'  Don't  you  feel  flattered  ?  " 

But  Lewis  did  not  smile  now.  He  was  think 
ing  what  a  very  odd  coincidence. 

"  Is  she  pretty  ?  I'm  sure  she  must  be  ladylike, 
at  all  events." 

"  Very  ladylike,  and  quiet.  I  remember  about 
the  leave  of  absence ;  she  only  came  back  to-day." 

"  So  Miss  Susie  informed  me,  and  told  me  a 
great  many  other  things.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to 
have  listened ;  but  it  appeared  to  give  the  child 
so  much  pleasure ;  and  I  don't  know  when  I  have 
been  so  much  interested.  I  should  suppose  Mar 
garet  nearly  supported  the  whole  family." 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  141 

"  "Where's  the  father  ?    What  is  he  ?  " 

"  A  genius,  as  near  as  I  could  make  out,  slight 
ly  mad  on  the  subject  of  perpetual  motion,  or  some 
such  fancy.  Susie  said  something  about  a  patent 
that  took  so  much  money,  and  her  father  making 
machinery." 

"  I  know  him — about  him,  I  mean.  Is  that 
her  father  ?  Mr.  Dunlap  was  telling  me  only  a 
few  days  ago.  He  applied  to  him  to  get  some 
kind  of  a  patent  through.  Why,  Agnes,  it's  odd, 
isn't  it  ? " 

"  Yery,"  said  Agnes,  warmly.  "  It's  hard, 
though,  for  this  young  girl,  isn't  it  ?  And  then 
the  mother  and  those  children !  She  must  have  a 
great  deal  to  contend  with,  though  Susie  was  too 
well  taught  to  speak  of  family  differences.  I  could 
see  for  myself,  when  I  came  down  stairs  again,  the 
mother  evidently  did  not  like  my  long  stay.  I  am 
very  glad  I  went,  though  she  would  not  give  a 
promise  about  the  Sunday-school.  I  don't  intend 
to  lose  sight  of  them." 

Lewis  did  not  volunteer  any  remark.  She 
looked  to  see  what  occupied  him.  It  was  the 
broken  fan,  Josephine  Wright's,  which  he  had  taken 
out  of  his  pocket,  and  was  trying  to  put  together. 


142  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

"  So  it  was  true,  then,  Josephine's  mishap." 
She  thought  perhaps  he  was  tired  of  hex  protegees, 
and,  grateful  for  the  interest  he  had  already  shown, 
was  ready  to  talk  of  what  he  cared  so  much  for. 
"  You  will  have  to  give  her  another.  Christmas 
will  be  a  good  opportunity." 

"Yes.  It  is  almost  here.  What  made  you 
look  at  me  so  steadily  when  Kate  told  that  ridicu 
lous  story  ?  She  broke  it  tying  her  hood,  just  as 
we  came  away  ;  and,  as  a  dutiful  cavalier,  I  pick 
ed  up  the  pieces." 

"  Oh,  we  had  been  holding  a  council  of  war — 
father,  and  mother,  and  '  sister  Agnes  ! '  Father 
asked  who  had  gone  with  you,  and  then  suggested 
that  it  was  high  time  you  were  married." 

"  To  Josephine  !"  Lewis  started  up,  and  lean 
ed  against  the  mantel  in  an  attitude  particularly 
manish,  back  to  the  fire. 

"  Not  exactly."  Agnes  scarcely  knew  whether 
to  smile  or  be  troubled  at  the  start.  "  That  made 
him  think  of  it,  I  suppose,  at  the  moment ;  and 
mamma  said  there  was  a  house  next  to  Anne's  that 
would  just  suit  young  beginners.  I  suppose  Anne 
had  said  how  nice  it  would  be  if  you  should  marry 
and  take  it.  Mother  was  in  raptures  with  Char- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  143 

ley,  as  usual.  He  really  tries  to  walk  a  little.  I 
don't  know  but  I'm  quite  as  proud  of  him  as  they 
are." 

"  Agnes,"  said  Lewis,  relapsing  into  a  gravity 
more  like  the  "  young  Mr.  Churchill  "  of  the  store 
than  any  look  he  had  worn  since  entering  the  house, 
"  why  is  it  that  the  best  of  people  can't  let  well 
enough  alone,  and  are  always  match-making  for 
any  one  who  has  reached  twenty-five  or  seven, 
without  making  one  for  themselves  ?  Can't  people 
be  just  as  happy  single?  Is  Anne  any  better  off 
than  you  are  with  her  housekeeping  troubles  and 
Charley's  teeth !  Now,  do  you  really  think  so, 
Agnes  ?  " 

A  shadow,  as  of  sudden  painful  thought,  pass 
ed  over  the  face  into  which  he  looked  so  earnestly ; 
but  he  was  too  much  engrossed  with  the  thought 
of  the  moment  to  remember  what  secret  spring 
he  had  touched. 

"  Those  who  love  each  other  truly  think  it  the 
only  real  happiness — marriage,  I  mean.  Father 
and  mother,  now — what  satisfaction  they  take  in 
each  other's  society,  and  in  us !  That  is  what  I 
often  think  of.  Single  life  is  well  enough  in  youth, 
with  its  hundred  pleasures  and  pursuits,  or  through 


144:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

life,  if  God  so  order  it ;  but,  if  He  leaves  the  choice 
to  us — a  childless,  companionless  old  age !  think 
of  it,  Lewis  ! — how  much  life-discipline  it  will  take 
to  make  us  cheerful  then,  unselfish,  and  useful  to 
others,  feeling  all  the  while  that  there  is  no  one 
on  whom  you  have  the  claim  of  the  nearest  ties 
and  affections !  " 

That  she  had  thought  of  it  with  more  than  com 
mon  feeling  was  evident  in  the  tremulous  though 
eager  tone  in  which  she  spoke. 

"  Forgive  me,  sister !  I  did  not  think  !  do  for 
give  me  !  "  Lewis  took  the  hands  she  had  uncon 
sciously  clasped  together  in  his  own.  "  But  let 
me  ask  you  one  thing  more.  I  am  in  serious  ear 
nest.  Tell  me  what  you  think  are  the  elements  of 
a  happy  marriage — what  should  you  look  to  first 
of  all." 

"  Principle,"  said  Agnes,  earnestly,  "  religious 
principle ;  for  all  others  will  be  found  wanting,  if 
it  be  put  to  the  test  of  a  harsh  experience ;  and 
then  there  is  no  fear  of  habit  or  temper,  if  it  be 
carried  into  daily  life.  '  Charity  suffereth  long, 
and  is  kind,'  you  know,  '  doth  not  behave  itself 
unseemly.'  That  whole  description  is  only  the 


MARGARET'S  HOME. 

portrait  of  a  true  Christian  woman  or  man,  thought 
ful,  considerate  for  others,  gentle  in  speech  and 
action,  the  truest  refinement.  This,  united  with 
sympathy  of  intellect  and  heart,  goes  to  make  up 
the  firm,  unshaken  trust  and  life-long  friendship 
which  seem  to  me  the  only  true  marriage." 

"Thank  you,  Agnes,"  said  her  brother,  ab 
ruptly  ;  "  God  bless  you,  dear  sister  !  " 

So  they  separated ;  but  she  heard  him,  long 
after,  walking  up  and  down  in  his  own  room,  the 
movement  betraying  in  him  restless  thought  or 
quiet  deliberation.  For  herself,  painful  memories, 
and  long-stifled  yearnings  had  been  called  forth, 
an  old  struggle  renewed,  which  she  had  thought 
ended  forever ;  and  she  could  only  pray  for  the 
peace  which  it  was  the  study  of  her  life  to  attain, 
and  which  is  surely  promised  to  those  who  seek  it. 
As  if  in  answer  to  the  strong  crying  of  her 
lonely  heart,  the  rhythm  of  one  of  her  favorite 
Keble's  most  consoling  thoughts  floated  like  a  strain 
of  music  through  her  mind  as  she  tried  to  find  for- 
getfulness  of  the  past  in  sleep  ; — 

"  Why  should  we  faint,  and  fear  to  live  alone, 

Since  all  alone,  so  Heaven  has  willed,  we  dieT 

Not  even  the  tenderest  heart,  and  next  our  own, 

Knows  half  the  reason  why  we  smile  or  sigh." 


146  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

And  again : — 


"  O  Lord,  my  God,  do  Thou  Thy  holy  will ! 

1  will  lie  still. 
I  will  not  stir,  lest  I  forsake  Thine  arm, 

And  break  the  charm 

Which  lulls  me,  clinging  to  my  'Father's  breast, 
In  perfect  rest. 

"To  the  still  wrestlings  of  the  lonely  heart, 

He  doth  impart 
The  virtue  of  that  midnight  agony 

When  none  was  nigh 
Save  God,  and  one  good  angel  to  assuage 

The  tempest's  rage." 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  14/T 


CHAPTEE    XI. 

THERE  are  some  days  occurring  in  protracted 
storms  when  the  clouds  break  away  unexpectedly, 
and  the  sunshine  and  blue  sky  gladden  us,  though 
we  say  to  ourselves,  unbelievingly,  that  it  cannot 
last,  and  there  is  more  darkness  for  the  morrow. 
So  it  was  in  Margaret's  horizon  the  day  of  her  re 
turn  to  her  duties.  Her  heart  beat  free  and  fast. 
Her  step  unconsciously  followed  the  quickened 
pulse.  It  was  more  physical  than  mental  exhilara 
tion,  for  there  were  the  little  debts  of  the  week 
past  rising  now  and  then  to  her  remembrance  like 
sharp  stings.  There  was  the  danger  of  a  relapse 
for  Susie,  especially  now  that  she  was  left  to  her 
self  again ;  and  the  moral  atmosphere  of  her  home 
was  unchanged,  after  all  her  seeking  for  peace. 
But  she  kept  all  these  afterthoughts  in  abeyance ; 
she  was  returning  to  active  duty ;  Susie  was  bet 
ter  for  the  time,  at  least ;  the  sun  shone ;  the  air 


148  LOSS  AND  GAIN ;   OE, 

was  fresh  and  bracing.  Margaret  wondered  how 
she  could  have  given  up  so  entirely  to  despondency 
the  week  before. 

There  was  one  unacknowledged  element  in  this 
change  of  mood.  She  should  see  the  kind  friend 
who  had  procured  her  the  respite  so  much  desired, 
and  perhaps  have  an  opportunity  to  thank  him,  and 
say  that  her  sister  was  convalescent,  as  he  had 
kindly  hoped  she  would  be. 

How  cheerful  the  old  store  looked  that  morn 
ing  !  How  pleased  the  girls  seemed  to  be  in  hav 
ing  her  back  again  !  She  felt  a  kindly  glow  to 
wards  all ;  and  they  noticed  how  communicative 
and  even  playful  she  had  grown  in  her  absence. 

"  It's  just  one  of  Addy  Long's  stories,  depend 
upon  it,"  said  Marianne,  as  she  left  the  little  cloak- 
ing-room. 

"  What  is  ? "  asked  a  new-comer,  who  had  been 
appointed  to  her  situation  since  Margaret  had  left. 
"  Who  is  that — the  girl  that  just  spoke  to  you  ? 
What  a  sweet  smile  she  has,  and  a  nice  figure, 
too !  If  she  only  was  dressed  better,  she  would 
be  what  people  call  queenly." 

Miss  McHvaine  was  fond  of  novel-reading, 
and  used  superlatives. 


MAHGAKET'S  HOME.  149 

"  Margaret  Grant  queenly !  in  that  everlasting 
chintz  frock  and  linen  collar !  " 

There  was  a  false  note  in  the  laugh  which  Ad- 
dy  Long,  just  entering,  intended  to  be  extremely 
merry — a  harsh,  scornful  tone,  that  jarred  all  the 
more  coming  from  such  beautiful  lips. 

"  Is  that  Miss  Grant  ?  I  thought  you  said  she 
was  not  coming  back." 

"  Well,  I  did  think  so  ;  but  it  seems  she's  here 
again ;  can't  take  a  hint ;  it  was  a  polite  way  of 
giving  her  a  dismissal,  for  nobody  ever  heard  of 
leave  of  absence,  except  one  week  in  summer, 
when  Caleb  Choate  is  about. '  Pity  she  hadn't  un 
derstood  it !  " 

"  What  makes  you  always  so  spiteful  towards 
Margaret  ? "  asked  Ellen  Boyne,  who  was  never 
afraid  of  expressing  her  opinion.  "  For  my  part, 
I  don't  believe  there's  any  thing  wrong  at  all ;  or, 
if  there  is,  it  isn't  Margaret." 

Addy  Long  turned  with  a  stamp  of  her  foot 
and  an  angry  light  in  her  eyes — 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Ellen  Boyne  ?  Do  you 
mean  me  ?  You'd  better  not !  " 

"  Take  any  cap  that  fits,"  returned  the  other, 
with  provoking  carelessness.  "  Those  that  live  in 


150  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OE, 

glass  houses  know  whether  stones  hurt.  You're 
jealous  of  her  ;  you  know  you  are.  You've  been 
ten  times  as  spiteful  since  Lemon  actually  went  to 
see  her." 

"  The  best  thing  he  could  do.  Once  was  enough. 
I  only  wish  you  could  hear  him  tell  it  himself ! 
Though,  to  be  sure,  he  only  went  out  of  curiosity. 
Of  course,  such  a  man  as  Albert  Wood  never 
could  fancy  such  a  plain,  stuck-up  creature." 

"  There  she  goes  !  "  said  Ellen  to  her  new  ac 
quaintance  ;  "  that's  just  like  her !  She  can't  bear 
to  have  any  of  us  noticed,  and  is  jealous  of  Mar 
garet  about  customers  and  all.  For  my  part,  I 
don't  care  a  pin,  only  Margaret's  worth  ten  of  her. 
You'll  find  us  all  out  in  time." 

Fortunately  for  Margaret's  present  mood,  the 
hurry  of  the  day  prevented  any  collision  between 
herself  and  her  pretty  neighbor  ;  although  it  gave 
her  only  the  most  distant  glimpse  of  Mr.  Churchill, 
and  allowed  no  opportunity  for  thanks.  So  the 
hours  ran  on  smoothly  enough ;  and  at  night 
came  an  unlooked-for  happiness. 

Do  not  smile,  dear  ladies,  because  the  unex 
pected  receipt  of  so  pitiful  a  sum  as  four  dollars 
made  Margaret  happy.  It  would  be  nothing  to 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  151 

Mrs.  Bond,  whose  husband,  having  been  success 
ful  in  yesterday's  speculation^  has  divided  with 
her  and  poured  ten  bright  golden  eagles  into  her 
willing  hand.  Josephine  Wright,  with  a  party  of 
young  friends,  has  just  spent  the  amount,  without 
a  thought,  for  confectionery,  at  Parkinson's.  But 
Jogephine  has  only  to  say,  "  Please,  Papa,"  and 
display  her  empty  purse  to  have  it  filled  again. 
Mrs.  Bond  has  hurried  down  town,  not  to  settle 
her  little  bill  for  the  party  dresses,  but  to  spend  half 
of  this  unlooked-for  prize  in  a  set  of  lace  and  em 
broidery,  to  be  worn  with  the  brocade.  Mrs.  Bond 
thinks — for  she  does  think  sometimes — what  weary 
work  those  store  girls  have ;  and  wonders  what  en 
joyment  of  life  ever  falls  to  their  share.  She  has 
forgotten  that  a  new  pupil  once  caused  her  more 
pleasure  than  the  set  she  has  just  secured  at  twice 
the  cost  of  the  lessons  she  toiled  through  cold  and 
heat  to  give. 

The  regular  day  of  settlement  for  the  salaries 
had  occurred  in  Margaret's  absence ;  and,  while 
she  was  thinking  within  herself  whether  to  ask  Mr. 
Choate  for  the  amount  due  her,  which  was  most 
pressingly  needed  at  home,  one  of  the  cash  boys 
laid  a  note  on  the  counter  before  her.  It  was 


152  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

an  unprecedented  thing  with  her  to  receive  a  letter 
from  any  one  ;  but  the  clear  handwriting  on  this 
envelop  left  no  place  for  speculation  as  to  its  au 
thorship.  It  was  the  simplest  of  business  trans 
actions  ;  yet  Margaret's  heart  overflowed  with 
happy  thoughts  as  she  read  it : — 

"  Hiss  Grant  will  please  find  enclosed  the  amount  of  her 
month's  salary. 

"LEWIS  CHURCHILL." 

There  was  the  amount  in  full ;  but  it  might 
have  been  an  oversight ;  if  not,  how  very  kind  and 
thoughtful !  Mr.  Choate  would  know  when  she 
went  to  sign  her  receipt ;  but  Mr.  Choate  was  not 
disposed  to  countenance  this  irregularity  by  dis 
cussion.  "If  his  partner  had  enclosed  it,  there 
could  be  no  error.  Mr.  Churchill  was  always  cor 
rect."  Even  Miss  Choate  was  transiently  softened 
for  Margaret's  day  of  sunshine,  and  appeared  a  de 
gree  less  curt  and  unapproachable  than  usual.  Ellen 
Boyne  was  folding  together  a  remnant  of  moussel- 
ine  as  she  returned  to  her  post.  "  Pretty,  isn't  it  ? 
Somebody  will  get  a  child's  frock  out  of  it  at  a 
bargain,"  she  said,  holding  it  up  for  a  moment  to 
pin  a  memorandum  of  the  reduced  price  upon  it. 
It  was  the  crimson  pattern  Susie  had  admired  so 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  153 

much.  Margaret  had  seldom  made  even  the  most 
trifling  purchase  without  the  grave  deliberation 
which  necessity  had  made  second  habit ;  but  just 
at  that  moment  she  felt  so  rich,  and  so  hopeful  for 
the  future — she  could  not  have  told  why — that  she 
made  Susie  a  sharer  in  the  day's  happiness  by  the 
purchase  of  the  coveted  frock. 

The  weight  of  the  little  package,  trifling  as  it 
was,  kept  her  in  a  glow  of  satisfaction  all  the  way 
home,  although  the  weather  had  changed,  and  long 
before  her  walk  was  ended  the  feathery  snow-flakes 
had  covered  the  side-walk.  Fortune  had  certainly 
conspired  towards  Margaret's  red-letter  day.  Her 
father  was  at  home  before  her,  an  unusual  thing  of 
late ;  and  Mrs.  Grant,  with  her  baby  on  her  lap, 
sat  comfortably  before  the  stove,  her  face  beaming 
with  the  effulgence  of  the  cloud-castles  she  was  al 
ready  constructing. 

"  Ah,  Margaret !  " — and  her  father  started  up 
as  she  opened  the  door — "  tired,  eh  ?  Snowing  ? 
"Why,  you  don't  say  it's  snowing !  I  just  came  in, 
and  I  didn't  notice  it.  Never  mind  ;  you  won't 
have  the  walk  much  longer.  There's  not  a  doubt 
left  now  " — and  out  leaped  the  precious  tidings — 

7* 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

"  not  a  doubt.  "We're  just  as  sure  of  that  patent 
as  we  are  of  New  Year." 

"  Oh,  father  !  " — she  was  just  in  the  mood  to 
be  dazzled  by  the  prospect — "  oh,  it  can't  really  be 
so!" 

"  Sure  as  fate ;  though  we  sha'n't  hear  positive 
ly  for  a  day  or  two  yet.  Mr.  Adams  wouldn't 
make  Cooper  an  offer  for  his  share  on  an  uncertain 
ty.  No,  of  course  not,  such  a  matter-of-fact  man 
as  he  is  !  " 

"  Did  he  really  ?  Oh,  father,  what  if  it  should 
come  to  anything  after  all !  " 

"  Should  ?  Why,  it  has  child  !  You  shall 
have  every  cent  back,  and  more,  too,  next  month, 
this  time." 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  move  into  a 
little  more  respectable  neighborhood,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Grant,  whose  ideas  of  gentility  had  never  been 
satisfied  with  a  court  life.  "  I  should  think  we 
might  go  into  South  or  Lombard.  There's  some 
nice  private  houses  in  South ;  and  one  thing  I'm 
bound  to  have — front  stairs,  and  a  stair-carpet,  and 
brasses — something  like  folks.  I've  lived  long 
enough  in  this  kind  of  style,  I  can  tell  you  !  " 

The   door   at  the  foot  of  the  offending  back 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  155 

stairs  was  open.  "  Margaret !  "called  a  faint,  im 
patient  little  voice  from  the  chamber  above. 

"  Yes,  dear."  And,  hiding  the  child's  present 
under  her  shawl,  with  a  half  smile  of  expectancy 
at  the  pleasure  it  was  to  give,  Margaret  turned  to  go. 

"  Oh,  Margaret !  "  called  her  father,  "  you  had 
better  say  to  Mr.  Churchill,  to-morrow,  that  he 
must  look  out  for  some  one  to  take  your  place. 
I  can't  have  a  child  of  mine  standing  behind  a 
counter,  at  any  one's  beck  and  call  after  this  !  " 

The  poor  haggard  face  lighted  up  with  a  piti 
ful  pride ;  but  it  was  only  natural  when  such  great 
good  fortune  had  befallen  him,  and  when  he  real 
ly  loved  Margaret  better  than  anything  but  this 
dumb  idol,  this  patent. 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  thought  you  never  would  come 
up  !  What  were  you  all  talking  about  down 
there  ?  "  was  Susie's  salutation.  "  Never  mind, 
though,  now.  The  lady's  been  here,  Margaret — 
been  here  to  see  me,  just  me !  and  she  stayed — oh, 
ever  so  long,  and  talked  so  much  !  " 

Here  Susie's  conscience  checked  her  a  little ; 
for,  now  that  she  came  to  think  of  it,  she  had  done 
most  of  the  talking  herself. 

"  "What  lady  ?  "  said  Margaret,  holding  up  the 


156  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

package.      "  See   there,    Miss  Susie,  somebody's 
Christmas  present !  " 

"  Did  you  have  one  ?  Did  Mr.  Churchill  give 
it  to  you  ?  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  !  " 

It  never  occurred  to  Susie  that  she  could  be  the 
recipient. 

Margaret  snapped  the  string  of  the  parcel,  and 
tossed  it  into  the  bed. 

"  Does  that  look  like  me  ?  who  said  they 
thought  it  was  pretty  enough  for  a  queen." 

Susie  was  no  monarchist.  All  her  queens  dwelt 
in  fairy-land ;  and,  when  Margaret  had  lighted  the 
lamp,  and  held  it  close  to  the  soft,  bright  folds, 
Susie  thought  that  if  winter  ever  came  to  that  bliss 
ful  region,  Titania  herself  might  be  glad  to  have 
anything  so  pretty  in  her  wardrobe.  Even  the 
visit  which  she  had  been  burning  with  impatience 
to  tell  Margaret  about  was  eclipsed  for  the  time. 
Susie  had  never  had  an  entirely  new  dress  bought  for 
her  in  all  her  life  before.  She  returned  to  its  con 
templation  constantly  through  the  evening,  break 
ing  off  from  fragmentary  snatches  of  the  visitor's 
conversation,  and  did  not  at  all  mind  Margaret's 
preoccupation,  as  she  bent  over  her  needle. 

Down  stairs,  there  was  a  murmur  of  voices  un- 


MAJJGAEET'S  HOME.  157 

til  long  after  Susie  fell  asleep,  wondrous  plans  laid 
for  the  future,  interspersed  with  reflections  from 
Mrs.  Grant  "  on  people  that  had  held  their  heads 
a  little  too  high,  and  were  now  to  see  that  some 
other  people  were  as  good  as  they."  Mrs.  Grant's 
world  was  quite  as  well  worth  striving  to  outshine, 
in  her  estimation,  as  your  world  and  my  world 
seem  to  us  ;  and  she  gloried  chiefly  in  the  sensa 
tion  she  was  about  to  make  in  its  midst. 

Margaret's  secret  exultation  may  have  been 
equally  at  fault ;  but,  for  that  night  at  least,  she 
gave  full  scope  to  imagination,  and  dreamed  wak 
ing  dreams  of  the  possible.  Her  heart  had  given 
a  great  bound,  and  freed  itself  from  the  restraint 
in  which  it  had  been  held  so  firmly.  If  it  were  so, 
all  true,  as  her  father  said,  what  strange  things 
might  not  come  to  pass  !  And  she  took  out  the 
little  note,  looking  through  a  bewildering  mist  at 
the  clear,  decided  signature  of  a  name. — she  denied 
it  to  herself  no  longer — that  had  the  power  to 
thrill  her  heart  with  almost  as  wild  a  pulse  as  the 
low  words  or  the  kindly  glance  that  had  been  be 
stowed  on  her  penury  of  love  and  sympathy  from 
time  to  time.  The  business  formality  and  coldness 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

were  nothing.  Her  own  name  and  his  were  writ 
ten  there  on  the  self-same  sheet. 

It  was  a  wild  reckless  mood  to  which  she  had 
given  way  ;  and,  though  all  alone  in  the  solitude 
of  her  room,  her  face  burned  with  blushes  at  the 
daring  thought  that  one  day  they  might  meet  on 
more  equal  ground,  where  it  would  be  no  longer 
madness  to  return  the  kindly  pressure  of  his  hand, 
and  look  up  into  his  eyes.  She  did  not  check  it 
fully  ;*no,  not  even  when  she  felt  that  the  dream 
came  between  her  soul  and  Heaven.  She  could 
not  cast  it  out  wholly ;  and  she  could  not  pray 
while  she  refused  to  do  so. 

Poor  Margaret !  if  she  could  have  seen  him 
at  that  moment,  with  the  intoxicating  light  and 
perfume,  music  and  beauty  around  him,  or  rising 
up  to  leave  the  crowded  hall,  with  that  fair,  slender 
figure  leaning  so  closely  on  his  arm,  while  he 
stooped  almpst  to  the  touch  of  those  soft  curls,  in 
reply  to  the  pretty  shiver  and  complaint  of  the 
crowd  and  the  cold  night  air  !  It  may  be  that  the 
angel  of  sweet  dreams  might  not  have  met  the 
warning  at  her  pillow — 

"  Stand  off  I 
She  sleeps,  and  did  not  pray  1 " 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  159 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  snow  continued  to  fall  heavily  through  the 
night,  and,  at  the  early  hour  which  called  Mar 
garet  forth,  was  not  removed  from  the  side-walks. 
It  clung  to  her  feet  and  dress  with  a  dreary  chill ; 
while  overhead  the  clouds  hung  low  and  dusky, 
as  if  the  storm  was  stayed,  not  spent ;  but,  so  long 
as  it  kept  in  abeyance,  its  gift  must  be  improved, 
and  early  in  the  day  the  merry  sound  of  sleigh- 
bells  broke  in  upon  the  jar  and  clash  of  wheels  in 
the  broader  streets.  It  was  too  precious  and  too 
fleeting  for  a  moment  to  be  wasted  ;  and,  though 
the  equipages  were  by  no  means  as  elegant  as 
where  the  sleighing  carnival  is  always  to  be  count 
ed  on,  and  extends  to  days  and  weeks  instead  of 
hours,  comfort  and  merriment  were  the  order  of  the 
day.  It  was  an  idle  morning  in-doors,  as  well  as 
out ;  and  every  one  had  leisure  to  watch  and  com- 


160  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

ment  upon  those  who  were  enjoying  themselves 
abroad.  Even  Margaret  welcomed  the  distrac 
tion  from  her  own  thoughts,  and  leaned  with  the 
rest  near  the  gr-eat  Arch  Street  window,  as  the  day 
wore  on  ;  and  the  fairy  gift  already  began  to  van 
ish  before  the  noonday  sun. 

"  Who  are  those  in  that  double  sleigh  there  ? 
see !  "  called  out  one  of  the  girls,  eagerly.  "  Do 
take  your  head  out  of  the  way,  Margaret !  There ! 
they're  out  of  sight  already  !  " 

"  "What  kind  of  horses  ? "  asked  the  ne*w  "  young 
lady,"  who,  having  come  from  Lowry's,  took  a  de 
cided  stand  among  her  new  associates.  "  I  know 
every  carriage  in  town  ;  but  sleighing  time  puzzles 
me ;  that's  the  worst  of  it ;  you  can't  tell  who's 
who."  . 

"  Oh,  look  at  that  little  black  pony !  what  a 
pretty  sleigh !  how  they  dash  along  !  don't  you 
envy  them,  Addy  ?  " 

"  I  sha'n't ;  if  it  will  only  hold  out  till  night, 
I  shall  be  dashing  about  myself."  And  Miss  Long 
glanced  complacently  towards  the  side  window, 
where  Mr.  "Wood  was  displaying  his  elegant  locks. 

"  Every  body  isn't  so  fortunate.  I  never  had 
a  sleigh  ride  in  my  life,  and  I  never  expect  to  have. 


MARGABET'S  HOME.  161 

There  is  that  double  sleigh  again  coming  up, 
slower  now,  too.  It's  hard  work ;  the  snow  has 
melted  so  fast  the  last  hour." 

"  Why,  I  know  those  grays  !  to  be  sure  !  Why, 
they  are  Mr.  Churchill's  !  and  there  are  his  daugh 
ters  and  Mrs.  Churchill  herself.  Who's  that  on 
the  front  seat  ?  Mr.  Churchill  has  been  driving." 

"  So  it  is.  They're  coming  in.  Yes,  Margaret, 
who  is  that  with  Miss  Kate  ?  Isn't  she  pretty  ? 
Here  come  some  other  people,  too.  I  guess  our 
fun  is  over  for  the  day."  And  the  little  group  dis 
persed  reluctantly  to  attend  to  the  several  arrivals. 

Margaret's  eyes  were  fixed  unconsciously  on 
the  Churchill  family,  as  they  were  met  by  Mr. 
Lewis,  who  came  out  of  his  office,  the  first  time 
she  had  seen  him  that  day.  The  young  ladies  sel 
dom  came  to  the  store.  Miss  Churchill  did  not 
care  for  shopping ;  and  Miss  Kate  had  usually  too 
many  engagements  with  her  riding-school,  French, 
music,  and  visiting,  the  usual  round  of  young  ladies 
at  her  age  in  Philadelphia.  On  Mrs.  Churchill, 
therefore  the  chief  duty  of  providing  for  the  family 
wants  fell ;  and  her  kind,  motherly  face  was  almost 
as  familiar  as  her  husband's  at  her  son's  place  of  bu 
siness.  Even  when  she  had  no  special  call,  she 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

liked  to  hover  about  the  house-furnishing  depart 
ment,  patting  the  soft  English  blankets  with  a  loving 
appreciation,  admiring  Miss  Choate's  favorite  pat 
terns  of  Irish  damask,  or  giving  her  opinion,  at  the 
desire  of  this  estimable  custodian,  of  the  new  sheet 
ings  and  long-cloths.  It  was  evident  that  her 
house-keeping  filled  up  what  few  vacancies  were  left 
by  her  husband  and  family  in  the  affections  of 
good  Mrs.  Churchill. 

Straight  to  Miss  Choate's  domains  she  therefore 
betook  herself,  her  ostensible  errand  being  a  piece 
of  huckabuck  for  the  servants'  rooms,  but  which 
seemed  to  necessitate  an  elaborate  review  of  every 
thing  in  the  form,  or  that  could  be  cut  into  the  form 
of  towelling,  from  damask  to  crash.  Agnes  accom 
panied  her,  and  tried  to  give  her  opinion  without 
being  entirely  at  random ;  but  her  eyes  stayed  be 
hind  her  if  her  thoughts  had  not  been  left  there  too ; 
and,  roused  into  notice  by  the  conversation  of  the 
evening  before,  she  watched  her  brother  and  the  two 
young  people  under  his  charge  unconsciously. 

"  How  plain  Miss  Churchill  is  !"  said  Mariane, 
coming  behind  Margaret  to  replace  some  silks. 
"  Don't  you  think  so  ?  She  always  dresses  as  if 
she  didn't  care  how  she  looked." 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  163 

"  I  don't  think  so.  She  does  care  enough  to 
have  every  thing  in  perfect  keeping ;  and  those 
plain  colors  are  becoming  to  her ;  with  just  enough 
rose-color  inside  her  bonnet  to  relieve  it." 

"  Well,  the  other  one  is  my  favorite,  any  way. 
Isn't  that  friend  of  hers  a  beauty  ?  How  stylish 
her  cloak  is  !  It  must  be  French.  You  know  who 
she  is,  don't  you  ? — Miss  "Wright !  " 

"  Oh,  such  a  piece  of  news  !  There  !  give  me 
that  merino  quick  !  I  only  made  it  an  excuse 
to  come  and  tell  you — Mr.  Churchill's  engaged  !  " 

"  There !  I  thought  so !"  exclaimed  Mariane,  as 
Ellen  Boyne  hurried  back  to  her  customer.  "  I 
never  saw  him  pay  so  much  attention  to  any  one 
before.  Just  see  !  Now  they're  coming  this  way. 
She  has  taken  his  arm.  Yes,  it  must  be  so.  How 
devotedly  he  looks  down  at  her !  See,  Margaret, 
she  isn't  in  the  least  bashful !  Engaged  people 
do  get  so  swallowed  up  in  each  other  that  they 
forget  it  isn't  after  ten  o'clock,  and  the  parlor  to 
themselves  all  the  while." 

She  might  have  gone  on  any  length  of  time. 
Margaret  had  heard  nothing  since  Ellen  Boyne's 
hurried  announcement ;  and  she  sought  the  con 
firmation  with  her  own  eyes,  though  for  a  moment 


164:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

every  thing  grew  black  before  her.  It  was  but  an 
instant,  though,  and  then  the  mist  cleared  away, 
and  she  saw  them  very  near  her — Miss  "Wright 
looking  up  into  Mr.  Churchill's  face,  as  she  made 
some  playful  remonstrance  ;  and  she  heard  his  an 
swer  distinctly,  and  saw  the  look  with  which  it 
was  accompanied :  "  Your  fan  is  in  safe  keeping. 
I  was  afraid  you  would  take  cold  last  evening." 

"  So  they  already  exchanged  love  tokens  ;  and 
they  were  together  the  evening  before,  at  the  very 
time,  perhaps,  that  she  was  busy  with  her  foolish 
dreams.  Folly !  It  was  worse  than  folly — un- 
maidenly.  Conscience  had  whispered  that  at  the 
time  ;  but  she  would  not  listen  ;  and  now  it  was 
sinful,  for  he  was  claimed  by  another.  The  light, 
graceful  figure,  the  lovely  face,  the  costly  raiment, 
how  every  thing  combined  to  mock  her !  It  was 
all  right.  His  bride  should  be  fair  and  tenderly 
nurtured.  She  looked  down  at  her  coarse  dress, 
and  thought  of  the  still,  white  face  the  little  mir 
ror  had  reflected  that  morning.  This  young  girl 
was  all  brilliancy  and  animation ;  her  soft,  clear 
laughter,  her  bantering  words,  the  freedom  and 
naturalness  with  which  she  received  his  attentions, 
and  the  smile  of  satisfaction  with  which  his  young- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  165 

er  sister  watched  their  proceedings,  left  no  room 
for  doubt.  Indeed,  she  had  not  for  a  moment 
sought  to  distract  the  pang  of  the  announcement 
by  questioning  its  truth.  Why  should  it  not  be 
so?  The  only  wonder  was  that  he  had  so  long 
remained  without  a  choice  among  the  bright  cir 
cle  his  sisters  drew  around  them.  But  no  one,  no 
one  ever  could — "  And  here  she  checked  herself, 
as  a  scarlet  flush  rose  and  glowed  on  her  face  at 
the  bold  daring  of  the  thought.  Even  to  herself 
she  would  not  acknowledge  how  well  she  might 
have  loved  him. 

It  was  all  over  now,  though ;  and  there  was 
nothing  to  prevent  her  from  wishing  him  all  hap 
piness  ;  and  she  looked  again  to  see  if  he  seemed 
really  so  happy  as  this  should  make  him.  But 
he  had  left  the  younger  ladies  with  Mrs.  Church 
ill,  and  was  talking  with  his  elder  sister  of  some 
thing  which  she  seemed  to  question  and  look  dis- 
provingly  about ;  and  then  why  should  they  look 
towards  her  ?  It  might  be  fancy ;  and  Margaret 
turned  away.  But  no  ;  some  fascination  drew 
her  glance  back  again  ;  and  she  felt  that,  strange 
as  it  might  be,  they  were  talking  of  her,  and 
gravely,  too. 


166  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

A  deeper  shame  burned  in  Margaret's  cheeks 
than  that  which  the  rebuke  of  umnaidenly  thoughts 
had  called  there.  In  a  moment,  she  seemed  to 
comprehend  it.  Miss  Choate  was,  in  all  probabil 
ity,  a  sharer  in  all  her  brother's  affairs.  She  had 
been  talking  to  Miss  Churchill.  She  must  have 
told  her  about  the  missing  robe.  The  gentle,  no 
ble-looking  woman  always  unconsciously  associat 
ed  in  Margaret's  mind  with  all  things  lovely  and 
pure.  She  knew,  then,  that  a  charge  which  could 
not  be  disproved  had  been  made  against  her ;  and 
henceforth  she  must  shun,  rather  than  love  to 
watch,  those  deep,  far-seeing  eyes. 

It  was  true,  Mr.  Churchill  said  he  did  not  cre 
dit  the  accusation  ;  but  that  was  a  long  time  ago  ; 
and  it  might  have  been  strengthened  by  those 
who  had  ill-will  towards  her,  as  she  felt  sure  there 
were  such  near  at  hand.  Or  his  chivalric  sympa 
thy  might  naturally  enough  have  been  overborne 
by  Mr.  Caleb's  persistence  in  the  charge.  "What 
could  Mariane  have  meant  by  the  mysterious  hints 
that  Addy  Long  had  thrown  out  about  her  in  her 
absence  ?  Had  the  suspicion  been  gaining  ground  ? 
Was  it  gathering  against  her,  to  break  forth  in 
open  disgrace  at  any  moment  ? 


MAKGARET'S  HOME.  167 

The  brother  and  sister  had  left  the  rest,  and 
she  thought  were  turning  to  come  directly  past 
her.  "  She  wishes  to  see  if  the  guilt  is  betrayed 
in  the  hardened  offender's  face,"  thought  Marga 
ret,  with  a  sudden  bitter  disdain  towards  them 
both,  towards  all,  herself  even,  that  she  should 
become  the  object  of  such  scrutiny.  "  But  I  will 
not  bear  it !  "  And  in  another  moment  her  place 
was  vacant,  only  to  be  resumed  when  she  had  as 
sured  hersself,  from  her  retreat  in  the  cloaking- 
room,  that  there  was  no  longer  any  encounter  to 
dread.  The  square,  old-fashioned  but  ample  sleigh 
was  drawn  up  directly  before  the  window.  She 
saw  them  come  out,  the  young  people  first,  and 
stand  together  on  the  sidewalk  until  the  elder  Mr. 
Churchill  had  finished  his  discussion  of  the  Euro 
pean  news  with  Mr.  Choate.  How  prettily  defin 
ed  was  the  little  foot,  tapping  the  flag-stones  with 
petty  impatience  !  how  clear  and  joyous  those 
blue  eyes,  as  if  they  had  never  known  the  heavi 
ness  of  weeping,  even  for  a  broken  flower !  And 
slowly  the  great  gulf  between  them  widened, 
while  Margaret  stood  face  to  face  with  her  false 
dream  of  the  future.  How  had  it  mocked  her  so, 
the  little  note  placed  carefully  among  her  treas- 


168  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

ures  at  home !  How  it  seemed  to  chill  her  as  she 
recalled  it  word  for  word !  Yesterday,  with  its 
inclosure,  it  had  seemed  a  token  of  watchful  in 
terest  over  her  happiness  and  well-being ;  to-day, 
as  alms  bestowed  upon  one  whose  need  stood 
plainly  forth. 

It  was  her  father's  credulous  hope  that  had  de 
ceived  her.  What  madness  had  possessed  her  to 
listen  to  it  for  a  moment !  How  often  before  had 
success  seemed  equally  certain,  only  to  be  follow 
ed  by  deeper  despondency !  What  ground  had 
he  given  her  but  his  own  craving  desires,  and  the 
assertion  of  unscrupulous  men,  to  whom  it  was 
but  a  passing  thought,  while  to  him  it  was  life  it 
self.  How  did  they  really  stand  ?  Poverty,  do 
mestic  discord,  weary  toil  were  before  her,  per 
haps  utter  loneliness,  for  how  was  Susie's  enfeebled 
strength  to  meet  the  taskwork  that  she  must  soon 
return  to  ?  Worse  than  all,  at  that  moment  came 
the  sting  of  a  false  accusation,  robbing  her  of  even 
respect,  where  her  hungry  heart  clamored  for  love 
and  sympathy. 

She  stood  so  self-absorbed  in  this  dreary  reve 
rie,  she  had  not  heard  any  one  enter  the  room,  and 
started,  as  if  an  outward  real  blow  had  fallen, 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  169 

when  Ellen  Boyne,  coming  beside  her,  said :  "  How 
well  they  look  together !  She  will  make  a  beau 
tiful  bride,  won't  she,  with  that  hair  and  complex 
ion?" 

Margaret  moved  away. 

"  I  must  go  back.  Have  I  been  here  long, 
Ellen?" 

"  Long  ?  Five  minutes  or  so.  Another  won't 
make  a  killing  difference,  I  guess.  "Wait  a  min 
ute  ;  I  want  to  tell  you  something  as  soon  as 
they're  off.  Now  he's  handed  her  in.  You  ought 
to  see  how  he  tucks  that  buffalo  robe  around  her. 
What  a  smile  he  has  !  it  brightens  his  whole  face 
so.  But  la,  he's  as  grave  as  a  judge  in  the  store 
always  !  I  wonder  when  the  wedding's  going  to 
come  off  ? " 

"  What  was  it  you  wanted  to  tell  me  ? "  said 
Margaret,  longing  to  escape,  yet  dreading  to  bring 
observation  upon  herself.  She  felt  as  if  every  one 
must  see  the  struggle  written  in  her  face. 

"  Oh,  there  they  go  at  last !  Now  he's  wav 
ing  his  hand  to  her.  Oh,  I  was  going  to  tell  you 
how  I  found  out  about  it !  I  was  up  in  Miss 
Choate's  dominions  after  a  piece  of  napkins  for 
Mrs.  Lovel,  you  know.  I  was  waiting  on  her. 


1TO  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Well,  while  Spectacles  was  hunting  about  for  it, 
I  heard  Mrs.  Churchill  say :  '  I  don't  want  the 
things  just  yet ;  but  I  thought  I  might  as  well 
be  looking  about.  Of  course,  I  shall  have  it  all 
on  my  hands.  Lewis  has  not  the  faintest  idea  of 
furnishing  a  house.'  Miss  Choate  asked  if  it  was 
'  a  settled  thing  ;'  just  like  her.  She  conies  under 
that  head  any  way  ;  and  I  didn't  hear  the  first  of 
what  Mrs.  Churchill  said ;  but  the  end  was  that 
they  had  known  each  other  a  long  time,  and  Miss 
"Wright  was  an  intimate  friend  of  her  daughters." 
Margaret  was  gone  without  comment  before 
this  precious  bit  of  gossip  was  concluded ;  but 
she  could  not  escape.  Such  astonishing  news 
was  not  to  be  set  aside  in  a  hurry  by  twenty 
young  damsels,  to  whom  weddings  were  the  chief 
end  of  feminine  existence ;  and  she  was  doomed 
to  hear  it  reviewed  and  commented  on  to  the  mi 
nutest  item  throughout  the  day. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  171 


CHAPTEK  XIII. 

"  ONE  moment,  Miss  Grant,  if  I  might  pre 
sume  ! "  called  out  Mr.  Wood,  as,  thankful  for  the 
hour  of  release,  she  hurried  from  the  door. 

Mr.  Wood  was  evidently  bent  on  bestowing 
"  the  pleasure  of  his  company ;"  and  Margaret, 
though  resentful,  submitted  passively,  rather  than 
subject  herself  to  a  scene.  Just  at  this  moment, 
when  she  could  scarcely  control  her  thoughts,  it 
irritated  her  to  be  required  to  listen  to  his  ele 
vated  conversation. 

"  A  happy  event  this — unexpected  denouement^ 
we  might  call  it — our  principal's  engagement.  Ex 
cellent  example,  however,  for  us  young  people ; 
something  that  comes  sooner  or  later  to  all  human 
ity,  old  bachelors  excepted."  And  Mr.  Wood's 
tone  seemed  to  express  a  determination  to  submit 


172  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

to  liis  inevitable  fate  manfully  when  it  did  over 
take  him.  "  Charming  face  Miss  "Wright's.  I 
have  frequently  admired  her  at  the  concerts,  and 
occasionally  when  I  have  been  thrown  in  her  vi 
cinity  at  the  theatre.  Golden  charms,  besides. 
When  one  is  eminently  a  practical  person,  like 
myself,  for  instance,  such  things  will  weigh. 
Doubtless  our  principal  has  an  eye  to  substantial 
— '  flowers  that  never  fade,'  to  borrow  from  the 
poets.  In  a  wife,  now,  Miss  Grant — in  a  wife, 
every  thing  ought  to — to — centre.  Don't  you 
think  so  ?  elegance  with  utility,  to  make  myself 
clearer." 

Margaret  bowed  in  response,  and  said  she 
scarcely  knew  what.  She  only  wished  that  Miss 
Long  had  not  departed  at  an  earlier  hour  than 
usual.  It  was  to  this  that  she  was  probably  in 
debted  for  Mr.  Wood's  attendance  on  herself. 
His  thoughts  had  also  turned  in  the  direction  of 
their  mutual  acquaintance. 

"  Miss  Wright  is  not  unlike  Miss  Long  in  fig 
ure  and  general  app  earance.  Strange  coincidence ! 
If  Miss  Long  only  possessed  some  of  Miss  Wright's 
solid  attractions,  what  a  prize  she  would  become  ! 
Lovely  creature  !  Miss  Long  I  refer  to  now.  On 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  173 

the  whole,  I  think  her  rather  superior  to  Miss 
Wright — more  style,  decidedly — so  guileless,  too, 
so  confiding.  Do  you  know,  Miss  Grant,  I  dote 
on  confidingness  in  women ;  it  is  so — so — so  sweet, 
somehow." 

Something  of  Margaret's  old  merriment,  like 
a  fountain  long  choked  by  weeds  and  rubbish, 
bubbled  up,  and  overflowed  in  smiles  that  the  par 
tial  darkness  concealed  from  her  escort.  They  were 
nearing  Chestnut  Street,  where  she  hoped  to  be 
relieved  of  his  society.  "  Addy  is  certainly  very 
beautiful,"  she  said,  finding  that  he  still  paused 
for  an  audible  response. 

"  By  the  way,  that  is  a  most  unfortunate  af 
fair  " — and  Mr.  "Wood's  face  contracted  to  a  close 
imitation  of  Mr.  Choate's  habitual  frown  when  in 
deep  thought — "  most  unfortunate  to  have  sus 
picion  come  prowling  '  like  an  armed  man '  among 
its.  Of  course,  I  allude  to  the  suspicion  that  has 
fallen  on  some  of  the  young  ladies  in  your  depart 
ment.  Miss  Long  informs  me,  though  she  did  not 
specify  the  charge,  that  it  has  been  pointed  to  one 
especially ;  and  I  trust  the  rest  will  soon  be  re 
lieved  from  unjust  censure  by  the  punishment  of 
the  guilty  party.  Concealment  is  useless  in  such 


174:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

a  case ;  and  though  a  person  might  be  said  to 
stand 

'  High  as  heaven, 
And  fair  as  light,' 

justice  tracks  home  the  guilty  secret.  Every  ef 
fort  is  being  made  I  understand.  Of  course,  I 
venture  no  personal  allusions.  Ah,  here  is  Chestnut 
Street !  I  have  the  honor  to  wish  Miss  Grant  a 
very  good  evening."  And,  adding  a  malicious 
glance  to  his  parting  thrust,  Mr.  Wood  betook 
himself  to  the  almost  deserted  promenade,  to  pass 
the  remaining  half  hour  before  the  shops  were 
fairly  closed,  as  a  man  of  elegant  leisure. 

Margaret  hurried  on,  feeling  that  her  humiliation 
was  complete,  open  insult  added  to  all  that  had 
gone  before  that  day  ;  and  what  was  this  net  of 
suspicion  and  disgrace  that  seemed  to  be  inclosing 
her  on  every  side  ?  where  had  it  originated  ?  how 
had  she  become  so  openly  involved  without  being 
able  to  move  hand  or  foot  to  free  herself  ? 

Second  Street  was  brilliantly  lighted ;  for  Christ 
mas  being  close  at  hand,  every  attraction  was  put 
forth  in  the  shop  windows  to  passers-by.  Conspic 
uous  among  the  almost  unbroken  line,  the  milliners 
displayed  their  graceful  wares — headdresses  and 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  1Y5 

plumes,  suggestive  of  holiday  merry-making — caps 
for  more  elderly  party-goers,  bright  with  knots  of 
ribbon,  and  flowers,  brighter  than  prize  gardeners 
ever  grew,  blooming  perennially  in  their  velvet 
and  gauze  freshness.  Bonnets  were,  after  all,  the 
chief  article  of  commerce,  chiefly  noticeable  for 
their  brilliant  hues  and  the  variety  of  their  dec 
orations,  pink  and  green  being  evidently  the  fa 
vorite  colors  of  ladies  shopping  in  Second  Street, 
to  judge  from  the  stock  on  hand.  Many  a  young 
girl  occupied  as  Margaret  was  through  the  week, 
hurried  here  to  spend  the  little  that  remained  of 
her  month's  wages  in  some  showy  piece  of  finery. 
She  could  almost  point  them  out,  as  they  hovered 
about  the  enchanted  windows,  and  passed  back 
and  forth  from  one  establishment  to  another,  fear 
ful  lest  they  should  not  get  the  most  becoming  or 
the  most  fashionable  bonnet  to  be  had. 

"  Everybody  has  some  enjoyment  but  me," 
thought  Margaret. '  "  Perhaps  they  are  the  wise 
ones,  after  all,  and  I  the  one  to  be  pitied,  as  I 
have  often  pitied  them.  They  are  satisfied  at  least, 
and  enjoy  every  thing  as  they  go  along.  What 
is  the  use  of  trying  to  live  a  higher  or  a  better 
life,  always  to  be  mocked,  always  to  fail,  even 


176  LOSS  AOT>  GAIN;  OK, 

•when  doing  my  best  ?  I'm  tired  of  it ;  I  will  not 
struggle  on  another  day.  There's  Addy  Long, 
even,  happier  than  I  am.  She  has  all  she  aims 
at,  and  more,  too.  Nobody  blames  her,  nobody 
suspects  her ;  and  yet  I  believe  in  my  heart — •" 
No,  she  could  not  go  that  length,  even  in  her  bit 
ter  mood  ;  she  could  not  accuse  another  without 
proof ;  and  she  tried  to  drown  all  thought  as  she 
turned  aside  from  the  more  brilliant  thoroughfare, 
with  a  sudden  recollection  of  an  unfulfilled  prom 
ise  to  Mrs.  Grant. 

It  was  to  call  for  a  new  bonnet  which  had  been 
ordered,  notwithstanding  the  pressing  need  of  the 
family ;  for,  although  she  talked  much  of  never 
having  any  thing  like  other  people,  she  usually 
contrived  to  shine  forth  resplendently  when  she 
made  her  appearance  in  the  street.  Even  in  this, 
Margaret  was  obliged  to  use  self-control.  She 
was  neither  "  good  nor  happy,"  as  Susie  would 
have  said,  this  evening  ;  and  the  errand  reminded 
her  of  the  necessity  that  she  herself  should  wear 
the  twice  re-made  bonnet,  her  best  already  for 
two  winters,  that  Mrs.  Grant's  new  purple  satin 
might  be  honestly  paid  for. 

The  little  bell  at  the  door-handle  gave  a  shrill 


MAJRGAKET'S  HOME.  177 

warning  of  her  entrance  to  the  dimly  lighted  shop. 
Its  business  did  not  thrive  sufficiently  to  allow  of 
a  more  than  the  one  oil-lamp  in  the  window,  which 
did  its  best  to  light  up  the  festoons  of  faded  rib 
bons  and  cotton  laces  around  it — not  that  its  pro 
prietor  lacked  skill  and  taste  in  her  little  business ; 
on  the  contrary,  she  had  a  local  reputation  for 
both,  and  was  always  promising  herself  to  move 
up  into  Second  Street,  where  she  could  have  a 
better  window  and  gas,  and  employ  more  hands  ; 
but  the  husband,  always  out  of  work,  and  the 
sickly  little  children  that  hung  about  her  knees, 
kept  her  back,  so  that  she  barely  fed  and  clothed 
them. 

Margaret  knew  something  of  her  story,  and  so 
tried  not  to  feel  impatient  when  the  woman  made 
her  appearance  from  the  inner  room,  with  her 
pale,  anxious  face,  and  pincushion  in  hand.  "  The 
bonnet  was  almost  done  ;  ten  minutes  would  com 
plete  it,  if  Miss  Grant  could  wait  so  long.  She 
was  fitting  a  young  lady,  a  new  customer,  and  al 
most  through,  if  Miss  Grant  would  have  the  good 
ness  to  sit  down  five  minutes,  and  please  to  excuse 
her." 

There  was  nothing  in  this  dreary  little  shop, 
ft* 


178  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

with  its  almost  empty  show-cases,  to  change  the 
current  of  Margaret's  thoughts.  She  read  and 
re-read  in  the  attempt  to  divert  them,  the  tin  sign 
over  the  inner  door — which  had  a  sash  window 
and  white  curtain — "  Millinery  and  Dressmaking 
done  here,"  and  was  fast  relapsing  into  the  misera 
ble  restlessness  of  the  day,  when  she  was  startled  by 
a  familiar  voice  from  the  room  to  which  the  dress 
maker  had  returned  :  "  As  tight  as  you  can,  now, 
without  straining  the  seams." 

Surely  that  was  Addy  Long  herself ;  but  what 
had  brought  her  to  this  out-of-the-way  place,  when 
she  prided  herself  so  on  being  fashionable  ? 

The  dressmaker  had  left  the  door  sligtly  ajar. 

"  You  will  be  sure  to  have  it  done  by  Tuesday 
evening,  now.  Don't  disappoint  me  for  more 
than  you  are  worth." 

"  It  is  for  a  ball,  I  suppose.  Yes,  I  can  make 
it  a  little  tighter,  and  the  side  seams  to  slope 
more  ;  but  your  waist  is  small  enough,  any  way." 

The  shop  was  so  still,  Margaret  could  hear  the 
worry  of  a  child  on  the  floor,  the  click  of  the  scis 
sors,  and  the  very  crackle  of  the  lining,  as  the  pins 
made  their  way  through  it. 

"  It's  an  elegant  thing,"  said  the  woman,  after 


_  MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  179 

a  little  pause,  evidently  occupied  by  her  customer 
by  a  self-satisfied  survey  of  her  slender  waist  and 
sloping  shoulders  in  the  glass.  "  It  must  have 
cost  a  great  deal.  It's  handsome  enough  for  a 
wedding  dress." 

"  Perhaps  it  may  be  ;  who  knows  ?  "  And 
there  was  a  little  laugh,  as  if  the  idea  was  not  al 
together  new  or  unpleasant.  "  I  got  it  for  a  party, 
though,  Tuesday  night.  It's  going  to  be  a  splen 
did  affair." 

"  Well,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  was  the  belle 
there,  flounces  is  so  becoming  to  your  figure.  Is 
that  low  enough  on  the  shoulders  ?  "Well,  a  trifle 
more.  There ! " 

The  curtain  of  the  door  moved  a  little  just  as 
Margaret,  impelled  by  mingled  fear  and  hope,  rose 
silently  to  her  feet.  Oh,  if  she  could  just  touch 
that  door  one  inch  further!  and  she  might  have 
proof,  perhaps,  not  of  the  sin  of  another,  it  scarce 
ly  crossed  her  mind  in  the  sudden  hope  of  freeing 
herself  from  all  suspicion.  A  shadow  moved  up 
and  down  on  the  curtain,  a  half-grown  nurse  toss 
ing  a  fretful  child  to  keep  it  quiet ;  and  then  it 
was  wholly  withdrawn,  the  sharp  little  faces  of 
the  nurse  and  her  charge  being  pressed  against 


180  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

the  glass  in  childish  curiosity  to  see  "  the  lady 
waiting." 

The  dressmaker  and  her  customer  both  stood 
with  their  backs  towards  the  door ;  and  it  was 
Addy  Long's  bright  but  evil  face  that  was  reflect 
ed  in  the  mirror,  as  she  surveyed  her  heightened 
beauty  with  visible  satisfaction.  Her  hair,  always 
elaborately  plaited,  stood  out  in  full  bands  from 
her  round,  freshly-tinted  face ;  her  eyes  were  bright 
with  anticipated  triumph ;  the  white,  drooping 
shoulders,  the  slender  waist,  draped  lightly  with 
the  gauzy  folds  of  a  soft,  floating  tissue.  Fatal 
temptation !  fatal  triumph !  The  missing  robe 
was  found ! 

Margaret  stood  quite  still,  and  wrung  her  hands 
closely :  consciousness  itself  seemed  for  a  mo 
ment  to  be  forsaking  her.  But  there  was  a 
quick  movement  from  within.  The  young  girl 
had  caught  sight,  in  the  mirror,  of  the  curtain 
withdrawn,  and  turned  sharply  round  to  the 
child,  a  guilty  fear  even  then  clouding  her  first 
satisfaction.  Margaret  saw  her  face  still  more 
distinctly  for  a  moment ;  then  the  curtain  fell, 
and  she  heard  an  admonitory  blow  administered 


MAJKGABET'S  HOME.  181 

by  the  overtasked,  irritated  mistress  to  the  tired 
bound  girl. 

Margaret  sat  down  again,  stunned,  as  if  she 
herself  had  received  it,  unable  to  decide  on  any 
thing.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  rush  away  out 
into  the  night,  back  to  the  store — perhaps  it  was 
not  too  late — to  his  home,  if  he  had  gone  there — 
anywhere,  that  she  might  clear  herself  in  the  eyes 
of  one  whose  opinion  was  her  world.  Or,  she 
could  confront  the  real  culprit,  there  where  she 
stood  with  the  glittering  evidence  of  her  guilt 
about  her,  and  force  a  confession  from  her  before 
witnesses  ?  It  would  be  very  cruel ;  but  had  she 
not  been  cruelly  dealt  by,  treacherously  injured  by 
the  very  one  she  shrank  from  exposing?  But 
while  these  things  whirled  through  her  mind,  the 
door  opened,  and  Adelaide  came  out  dressed  for 
the  street.  There  was  no  time  to  lose.  She  stood 
on  the  step  separating  the  two  rooms  for  a  mo 
ment,  one  foot  balanced  for  the  descent,  while  she 
gave  a  parting  charge,  then  passed  so  close  that 
the  hem  of  their  dresses  swept  together ;  and  Mar 
garet's  outstretched  hand  could  have  detained  her. 
But  she  did  not  raise  it,  did  not  speak,  scarcely 
breathe,  lest  she  should  lose  all  self-control,  and 


182  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

deny  the  creed  wMcli  she  had  tried  to  make  the 
daily  rule  of  her  life,  and  which  even  now  rose 
warningly  through  the  chaos  of  her  thoughts: 
"Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to 
you,  do  ye  even  also  so  to  them." 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  183 


CHAPTEK    XIV. 

"  ISN'T  it  most  time  to  get  ready  for  cliurcli, 
sister  ?  " 

Susie  had  been  promised  that  she  should  sit 
up  all  the  afternoon,  and  was  in  a  great  hurry  to 
have  the  morning  go  by.  The  bells  were  ringing, 
and  Margaret  had  accomplished  her  double  duty 
— the  work  down  stairs,  and  the  care  of  their  own 
room ;  yet  she  still  sat  by  the  window,  leaning 
her  head  down,  apparently  looking  into  the  street 
below.  She  saw,  indeed,  the  houses,  and  the  lit 
tle  stir  of  the  neighborhood,  but  it  all  passed  un 
consciously  before  her.  The  milk-shop  on  the  cor 
ner,  with  the  two  tin  cans  standing  on  the  pave 
ment  before  the  door,  was  the  centre  of  attraction. 
Shivering  little  girls,  Susie's  age,  or  younger,  with 
their  unfastened  dresses  betraying  a  poverty  of 
underclothing,  and  their  stockingless  feet,  protect- 


184:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

ed  only  by  dilapidated  shoes — or  boys,  Master 
Washington's  week-day  associates,  with  the  little 
earthen  pitcher  slung  on  their  arms,  and  both 
hands  in  their  pockets  for  warmth,  were  the  gen 
eral  messengers.  "Now  and  then,  an  unshaven  man, 
with  the  soil  of  the  six  days'  work  still  upon  him, 
or  a  slatternly  belated  housewife,  made  their  ap 
pearance  on  the  same  errand,  or  to  bring  water 
from  the  hydrant,  nearer  still  to  Margaret's  win 
dow.  One  or  two  decent-looking  church-goers 
issued  forth,  an  entire  family,  father,  mother,  and 
two  toddling  little  ones,  in  answer  to  the  summons 
of  the  church  bells,  which  now  increased  their 
cheerful  clamor,  as  if  to  arrest  those  who  were 
usually  unmindful  of  their  voices. 

Susie  wondered  what  had  happened  to  Marga 
ret  since  Friday,  the  memorable  day  on  which  the 
new  dress  was  bought.  She  had  been  so  cheerful 
and  bright  all  through  her  stay  at  home,  and  es 
pecially  that  evening  came  hurrying  up  stairs, 
and  gave  her  such  a  great  hearty  kiss  on  both 
cheeks,  encouraging  her  to  talk  .about  the  home 
of  their  own,  that  they  were  to  have  some  day, 
which  had  now  become  a  fixed  idea  with  Susie. 
She  looked  at  her  sister  wistfully,  and  thought  it 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  185 

would  be  pleasanter  if  Margaret  would  always  be 
cheerful,  as  she  once  was,  and  not  have  these  long 
sober  thinking  times,  when  she  would  look  and 
look  so  earnestly  at  one  thing,  whether  it  was  her 
work,  or  a  book,  or  the  floor,  it  did  not  seem  to 
make  a  great  deal  of  difference  which. 

"  Ain't  you  afraid  you'll  be  late?-"  urged  Su 
sie  presently.  Margaret,  herself,  had  taught  the 
child  the  most  exacting  punctuality  in  church-going. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  go  to-day." 

"  Don't  you  ?  I  didn't  know  you  were  sick, 
sister.  Is  it  your  head  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Margaret,  turning  around,  shortly. 
"  What  makes  you  think  I'm  sick  ?  Yes,  I  am, 
Susie.  Sick  ?  Yes,  heart-sick,"  she  said,  despair 
ingly,  to  herself. 

"  I  thought  you  must  be."  Susie  was  at  once 
satisfied  that  there  was  a  reason  for  Margaret's 
dulness,  but  very  sorry  that  she  was  suffering. 
"  I  thought  so  last  night  when  you  came  home. 
I  don't  think  any  thing  but  being  very  sick  would 
keep  you  from  saying  your  prayers  and  going  to 
church." 

"  Were  you  awake  when  I  came  to  bed  ?  You 
did  not  speak." 


186  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  No ;  because  I  thought  perhaps  you  would 
be  saying  your  prayers,  after  you  lay  down,  and 
I  should  disturb  you.  I'm  so  sorry  you  can't  go. 
I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  go  again !  it  seems  so  long. 
Does  the  pretty  little  girl  that  sits  in  the  corner 
come  this  cold  weather?  and  the  lame  woman 
with  the  brown  bonnet?  She  always  speaks  so 
nicely  to  me  ;  when  I  don't  even  know  her  name. 
Isn't  it  funny.  I  should  like  to  hear  '  We  praise 
Thee,  O  God  ! '  once  more.  It  always  sounds  so 
grand,  and  rolls  so  through  the  church,  and  fills 
it.  When  I  shut  my  eyes,  it  seems  as  if  I  could 
see  them  all  standing  on  the  glass  sea,  with  their 
harps  up  in  heaven ;  all  '  the  glorious  company  of 
the  apostles  ;'  and  the  holy  martyrs  and  the  pro 
phets,  just  as  it  says.  I  wonder  if  it  is  wicked  to 
care  so  much  more  about  the  singing  than  I  do 
about  the  sermon,  sister  ?  Which  do  you  go  to 
church  for  most  ? " 

Ay  !  what,  indeed,  did  she  go  to  church  for  ? 
Why  was  she  staying  away  ?  What  had  checked 
even  her  prayers  ?  It  was  the  tumult  of  her  soul 
which  she  could  not  quell — the  doubts  of  God's 
love  and  kindness  to  her — the  miserable  murmurs 
at  her  lot — the  sullen  defiance  of  His  rule  over 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  187 

lier — and  the  resolve  to  walk  by  the  light  of  her 
own  human  will  and  inclination.  It  was  unjust 
that  she  should  be  always  suffering  for  others ; 
denied  love,  when  it  was  wasted  on  one  who  al 
ready  had  every  other  gift  in  lavish  profusion  ! 
She  stood  in  a  great  strait,  and  there  was  no  one 
to  counsel  her.  Her  father  would  not  understand 
it  all,  and  was  indeed  so  self-absorbed  that  he 
could  not  enter  into  the  difficulties  that  surround 
ed  her  ;  no  one  could,  for  no  one  knew  the  extent 
of  the  sacrifice  which  conscience  demanded. 

What  did  she  go  to  church  for  ?  "Was  it  not 
to  seek  the  very  help  and  'guidance  which  she  so 
much  needed  ?  And  this  simple  childish  question 
gave  her  the  clue  to  the  labyrinth  of  temptations 
by  which  she  was  surrounded. 

"  I  think  I  will  go,  after  all  " — and  she  began 
her  simple  toilette  ;  "  I  may  feel  better  after  I  am 
in  the  air." 

Again  the  temptation  whispered :  "  What  good 
will  it  do  you  ?  You  can  say  your  prayers  as  well, 
or  better,  at  home." 

But  she  was  roused  to  see  the  first  wilful  erring 
from  the  straight  path  of  duty,  and  though  she 


188  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

did  not  know  how  it  could  avail  her,  she  would 
take  the  first  step  towards  a  return. 

She  was  not  late,  after  all ;  for  the  fear  of  be 
ing  so  had  quickened  her  walk  through  the  side 
streets  and  courts  that  made  her  most  direct  way 
to  the  old  parish  church  where  her  mother  before 
her  had  prayed ;  yes,  that  the  child  then  kneeling 
beside  her,  the  quiet,  brown-haired  Margaret, 
might  have  the  strength  and  guidance  she  needed, 
in  just  such  trials  as  these  which  had  come  upon 
her. 

The  tide  of  fashionable  church-goers  was  pour 
ing  into  the  iron  gates,  as  she  caught  sight  of  the 
well-known  stone  coping  that  surmounted  the  wall 
on  either  side — the  heavy  parti-colored  brick  wall 
that  screened  the  slumbers  of  the  dead  in^  that 
quiet  old  church-yard  from  sight,  or  sound  of  pro 
fanation  ;  and  standing  in  their  midst,  so  that  the 
shadow  of  the  cross  on  the  graceful  spire  passed 
from  grave  to  grave,  as  the  day  deepened  to  noon, 
or  faded  to  twilight,  was  the  honored  house  of 
prayer  in  which  they  had  been  baptized,  and  from 
which  they  were  carried  to  their  burial. 

It  needed  no  stately  arches,  no  fretted  aisles  to 
enhance  the  reverence  with  which  all  who  wor- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  189 

shipped  there  turned  towards  it,  as  to  their  home. 
It  had  that  which  wealth,  however  lavishly  or 
tastefully  displayed,  could  never  give.  Huge,  and 
perhaps  ungraceful  in  its  proportions,  its  walls 
were  tableted  by  memories  of  the  dead  who  die 
in  the  Lord,  chief  among  them  the  venerable  pa 
triarch,  whose  snow-white  hair  had  been  crowned 
with  many  a  glory  from  the  square  chancel  win 
dow,  as  he  ministered  before  it  to  those  his  hands 
had  signed  as  lambs  of  the  flock,  in  their  infancy, 
at  its  font,  and  were  sent  forth  by  him,  in  later 
life,  as  "  servants  and  soldiers  "  of  the  cross.  Hea 
vy  wreaths  of  ivy,  bearing  witness  to  its  age, 
crept  everywhere,  garlanding  its  walls,  and  essay 
ing  even  to  drape  the  spire  itself,  with  its  unfading 
freshness,  or  stooping  to  trail  o'er  some  moss- 
grown  memorial  stone  that  marked  the  last  rest 
ing-place  of  one  who  had  seen  the  foundation 
laid,  and  this  witness  to  the  zeal  and  piety  of  our 
forefathers  rise  to  its  completion.  The  close  turf 
had  scarcely  lost  its  freshness,  and  overhead  swung 
the  heavy,  drooping  branches  of  the  old  willows, 
that  ranged  with  statelier  trees,  and  were  the  first 
to  send  a  thrill  of  the  spring's  green  gladness  into 
the  close  dull  heart  of  the  city. 


190  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

There  are  not  many  such  monuments  to  the 
goodness  of  God  to  his  people  from  generation 
unto  generation,  in  this  age  of  rapid  growth  and 
unsparing  change  ;  thrice  hallowed  and  venerated 
be  those  that  remain.  Bonds  like  these  drew 
many  of  its  worshippers  from  their  far-off  homes 
in  more  fashionable  quarters,  unheard  of  when 
the  substantial  dwelling-places  around  it  were  in 
their  prime.  It  was  thus  that  its  congregation 
united  strange  contrasts,  now  that  the  homes  of 
the  poor  and  lowly  had  crept  up  to  the  very  boun 
daries  on  one  side,  while  on  the  other  fashion  still 
lingered,  and  the  call  to  daily  prayer  reached  even 
to  the  shock  and  turmoil  of  business  life,  the  great 
commercial  centre  of  the  city.  It  was  a  house  of 
prayer  for  all  people,  one  of  the  few  in  which 
"  the  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together"  to  acknowl 
edge  that  "  the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all." 

Margaret  stood  aside  on  the  broad  stone  flag 
ging  for  a  moment,  to  let  the  children  of  the 
Sunday-School  pass  with  their  teachers — a  quiet 
little  train  of  bright  and  thoughtful  faces,  chiefly 
gathered  among  those  who  had  few  other  opportuni 
ties  of  instruction ;  while  the  teachers  entered  on 
their  self-denying  ministry  from  all  classes  of  the 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  191 

congregation.  Overhead  the  chimes  were  singing 
through  the  morning  air  a  glad  triumphant  strain  ; 
and  as  Margaret  listened,  and  looked,  thoughts  of 
her  own  childhood  came  with  softening  memories. 
She  had  once  made  one  of  the  little  procession,  as 
Susie  now  longed  to  do.  How  well  she  could  re 
member  looking  out  eagerly,  as  she  crossed  the 
churchyard,  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  mother's 
loving  smile,  and  claim  her  hand  as  they  passed 
up  the  dusky  gallery  stairs  to  their  own  seat,  just 
as  she  ascended  them  this  morning,  and  knelt  in 
that  very  place,  kept  through  all  the  changes  of 
years,  because  it  had  been  her  mother's.  She 
could  not  pray,  even  here ;  only  a  wild,  lonely 
yearning  for  help  and  hope  filled  all  her  soul  as 
she  rose  and  waited  for  the  service  to  commence. 

Susie's  old  friend,  the  lame  woman  in  the 
brown  bonnet,  was  already  there,  in  the  opposite 
corner  of  the  square  pew,  her  prayer-book  opened, 
and  her  spectacles  laid  across  the  page,  to  be  rea 
dy  when  the  voluntary  should  cease.  From  below 
came  the  clatter  of  children's  feet  as  the  boys  of 
the  school  crossed  the  marble  pavement  of  the 
chancel  to  take  their  places  in  the  opposite  gallery. 
Margaret  looked  down  to  the  chancel,  with  its 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

warm,  crimson  draperies,  to  the  window  through 
which  poured  a  softened  light ;  but  it  was  not  this 
which  attracted  her.  She  tried  to  turn  away,  tried 
not  to  see  what  she  knew  would  only  add  to  her 
disquiet,  "  but  looked,  nevertheless." 

The  high  square  pews,  with  their  original  am 
ple  space  and  comfortable  furnishing,  were  occu 
pied  chiefly  by  family  groups,  each  a  picture  in  it 
self.  There  were  fathers  with  snow-white  hair — • 
dignified  matrons  with  the  uneasy  little  ones  of 
the  second  generation  at  their  side ;  while  young 
men  and  maidens  had  come  up  through  the  good 
old  paths  in  which  their  childish  steps  had  been 
guided  to  join  in  prayer  and  psalm. 

Margaret  saw  the  family  she  sought  for  in  their 
accustomed  places,  all  but  one ;  and,  as  she  look 
ed  again,  he  came  in,  and  stood  uncovered,  with 
bowed  head  and  thoughtful,  reverent  face  ;  not  as 
one  who  conforms  only  to  an  outward  custom ; 
every  deed  of  Lewis  Churchill's  life  attested 
that  he  worshipped  "  in  spirit  and  in  truth." 
"With  Margaret's  strong  devotional  feelings,  this 
had  strengthened  the  confidence  and  respect  with 
which  only  she  had  first  regarded  him ;  and  it 
was  still  the  highest,  purest  element  in  what  she 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  193 

had  come  to  know  was  "  inordinate  and  sinful 
affection,"  since  he  was  now  bound  to  another. 
"Weak  and  unmaidenly  it  might  have  been  before ; 
but  now  it  was  to  be  resisted  as  sin.  Should  she 
ever  conquer  it  ? — looking  for  his  face  day  after 
day,  as  the  sick  and  the  prisoner  watch  for  the 
sunshine,  thrilling  to  her  very  heart  at  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  starting  at  his  step,  however  distant ; 
but  no — not  while  in  his  daily  presence.  How 
quietly  happy  they  all  seemed  in  each  other  !  Mr. 
Churchill  looking  round  upon  them  with  par 
donable  pride — his  wife  anxious  for  Agnes'  com 
fort,  as  if  she  had  been  still  an  invalid — Kate 
checking  the  bright  glances  and  dimpling  smiles 
of  her  merry  face  with  the  remembrance  of 
the  presence  they  had  come  up  to  seek.  She 
saw  it  all,  even  the  thanks  of  Agnes,  as  her 
brother  moved  the  footstool  at  his  mother's  signal, 
and  marked  the  psalms  for  the  day.  Why  had 
God  set  them  in  an  Eden  of  affection  and  content, 
leaving  her  a  famished  beggar  at  the  gate  ?  Strive 
as  she  would,  her  mind  wandered  back  to  this. 
Through  the  prayerful,  hopeful  words  of  the  psalm, 
through  the  solemn  petitions  of  the  litany,  noth 
ing  reached  her  dull  and  heavy  heart  until  the 


194  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

prayer  especially  appointed  for  the  day  put  into 
her  very  lips  the  cry  that  had  striven  vainly  for 
utterance : — 

"  With  great  might  succor  us !  that,  whereas 
through  our  sins  and  wickedness  we  are  sore  let 
and  hindered  in  running  the  race  that  is  set  before 
us,  thy  bountiful  mercy  may  speedily  help  and 
deliver  us." 

A  soft  mist,  as  of  a  coming  fruitful  shower, 
gathered  in  her  hot  and  tearless  eyes,  as  she  rose 
from  her  knees ;  but,  though  she  could  not  see  the 
page  before  her,  she  heard  the  clear,  deep  voice 
of  their  pastor  in  the  lesson  that  followed  : — 

"  Be  careful  for  nothing  ;  but  in  every  thing, 
by  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiving,  let 
your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God.  And 
the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understand 
ing^  shall  keep  your  hearts  and  minds  through 
Christ  Jesus." 

But  no,  this  gentle  counsel,  this  loving  promise 
were  not  for  her.  Thanksgiving  she  could  not  offer ; 
peace  she  could  not  hope  for.  The  prayer  suited 
her  best ;  and  she  said  over  to  herself:  "  Through 
our  sins  and  wickedness,  we  are  sore  let  and  hin 
dered."  She  remembered,  when  the  noble  face 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  195 

and  figure  of  their  rector  appeared  in  the  high, 
old-fashioned  pulpit,  so  near  that  his  eyes  seemed 
to  seek  her,  as  he  looked  around  upon  his  people, 
that  the  sermon  was  the  last  of  the  Advent  lec 
tures,  in  which  God's  people  had  been  called  upon 
from  Sunday  to  Sunday  to  rise  and  shake  off  the 
sloth  and  coldness  which  had  gathered  about  them 
through  a  year  of  prosperity  and  pleasure.  It 
was  as  it  had  been  a  trumpet  call  in  its  earnest 
solemnity  to  self-conviction  and  self-denial,  even 
to  the  right  hand  or  the  right  eye.  Secret  faults, 
subtle  besetting  sins,  darling  self-indulgences — all 
these  stumbling-blocks  in  the  King's  highway, 
were  to  be  set  aside,  that  "  the  rough  places  might 
be  made  straight,  and  the  crooked  places  plain." 
This  was  not  the  comfort  and  help  Margaret  had 
longed  for.  She  had  asked  for  a  draught  of  ob 
livion  ;  and  a  sharp  searching  knife  probed  the 
wound  instead.  It  had  left  her  without  excuse  ; 
but  she  only  felt  more  hopeless  and  despairing  as 
she  rose  to  leave  the  church.  The  living  tide 
thronged  outward  through  the  aisles,  and  down 
ward  from  the  galleries  above.  There  was  a  crush 
in  the  vestibule,  where  the  two  currents  met ;  a 
pause,  filled  by  nods  of  recognition,  and  fragmen- 


196  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

tary  comments  or  questions,  among  kinsfolk  and 
acquaintance,  on  the  sermon,  the  weather,  and — 
shall  we  record  it  ? — still  more  indifferent  topics ; 
but  all  in  that  hushed  church-going  whisper  which 
still  preserves  the  outward  decency  demanded  by 
the  day  and  the  place  itself.  It  seemed  strange 
to  Margaret,  battling  with  the  solemn  call  she  had 
listened  to,  to  hear  such  words  as  these  : — • 

"  Out,  after  all !  My  dear,  your  new  bonnet  is 
lovely." 

"  Pretty  woman,  Miss ,  if  you  can  catch  a 

glimpse  of  her.  She  sat  with  the s." 

"  Cold  for  the  season,  though.  "We  shall  have 
an  old-fashioned  winter,  I  imagine.  Better  go 
home  and  dine  with  us." 

"  All  such  miserable  sinners  ?  JSTo,  my  dear 
madam  ;  don't  set  yourself  and  myself  down 
among  the  ignoble  crowd.  Don't  you  think  the 
sermon  was  rather  long  ? " 

"While  she  wondered  that  even  these  gay  tri- 
flers  could  so  soon  put  aside  the  earnest  words  of 
a  faithful  pastor,  or  watched  the  thoughtful  still 
ness  of  many  more  faces  that  flowed  past,  beneath 
her,  as  she  stood  arrested  midway  in  her  descent, 
some  one,  pressing  close  to  her,  said  :  "  Ah,  if  we 


MAJRGAKET'S  HOME.  197 

laid  such  words  to  heart !  If  the  Advent  warn 
ing  was  only  listened  to  as  it  should  be  !  "  And 
she  turned  to  find  Miss  Churchill  and  her  brother. 
He  was  bending  down  to  his  sister  as  she  spoke ; 
but  when  he  raised  his  head  they  stood  face  to 
face,  and  pressed  so  closely  in  the  throng,  as  she 
stepped  down  quickly  with  the  instinct  of  avoid 
ance,  that  for  a  moment  his  arm  supported  her ; 
and  she  could  almost  hear  the  strong,  measured 
beating  of  his  heart.  It  was  doubtless  the  surprise 
of  meeting  her  there  so  suddenly — it  had  never 
chanced  before  ;  though  sometimes  she  had  had  a 
distant  greeting — which  called  such  a  sudden  light 
into  his  face. 

"  Margaret !  "  And  he  put  out  his  hand,  this 
time  undenied. 

Only  for  one  moment !  He  had  called  her 
"  Margaret,"  too  !  It  was  part  of  her  old  self- 
deception.  But  the  dying  are  allowed  farewells  ; 
and  she  suffered  him  to  take  her  hand  into  the 
warm  grasp  of  a  friend,  not  the  distant,  ceremo 
nious  touch  of  civility  to  an  inferior.  She  felt  his 
breath  upon  her  cheek,  met  his  glance  with  one 
that  said  she  knew  not  what !  nothing  that  she 
need  blush  for. !  a  friend — he  had  shown  himself 


198  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

her  friend — might  know  that  his  compassion  was 
not  wasted. 

Then  the  crowd  swept  over  the  time-worn 
threshold,  and  separated  them.  That  was  as  it 
should  be.  Henceforth,  they  were  to  go  separate 
ways  ;  she  knew  it  now  ;  that  touch — it  thrilled 
her  yet — had  given  her  "  knowledge  of  the  good 
and  evil  "  in  her  own  heart.  She  must  not  trifle 
longer  ;  she  must  not  linger  in  the  way  of  tempta 
tion. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  199 


CHAPTEE    XV. 

SUNDAY  was  always  one  of  Margaret's  trial  days. 
At  other  times,  she  could  escape  the  sight  at  least 
of  the  ill-regulated,  noisy  household ;  and,  as  is 
usually  the  case  where  there  is  no  family  rule, 
self-indulgence  and  its  consequent  evils  reigned 
paramount  on  this  day  of  all  others. 

Margaret  still  held  to  her  own  mother's  teach 
ing,  quaintly  expressed  by  Ruth's  homely  proverb, 
"  Never  clip  the  wings  *of  the  Sabbath."  But 
Mrs.  Grant  put  "  idle  "  for  "  holy  "  in  her  reading 
of  the  Fourth  Commandment,  and  observed  it  to 
the  letter.  Church-bells  were  her  signal  for  rising ; 
and  the  remains  of  breakfast,  which  it  was  Marga 
ret's  business  to  prepare,  usually  stood  on  the  ta 
ble  on  her  return  from  morning  service,  the  chil 
dren  undergoing  their  weekly  ablutions  in  the 
mean  time ;  or,  if  they  escaped  out  of  doors  before 


200  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

their  mother  seized  upon  them  for  the  dreaded 
ceremony,  this  duty  also  fell  upon  their  elder  sis 
ter,  or  Susie,  when  she  was  the  little  maid  of  all 
work. 

There  were  two  hours,  at  least,  of  hurry  and 
confusion  at  noon,  of  teazing,  or  quarrelling  be 
tween  the  boys,  and  sharply  administered  rebukes 
of  tongue  and  hand  from  their  mother,  in  the 
pauses  of  making  her  own  elaborate  toilet  for  the 
afternoon's  neighborly  visiting.  Her  husband  al 
ways  passed  it  in  long  strolls  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  city,  ending  in  the  vicinity  of  some  railroad 
depot,  where  he  could  meditate  at  leisure  on  his 
own  premeditated  improvements  in  machinery. 
Time  had  been  when  he  too  attended  service 
regularly  ;  but  his  desultory  habits,  and  failing 
health,  his  shabby  dress,  and  the  whole  gradual 
lowering  of  moral  tone,  had  broken  in  upon  high 
er  duties ;  though  he  had  ever  kept  aloof  from 
the  uncongenial  society  of  the  low  and  vicious 
around  him. 

The  purple  satin  hat  was  displayed  conspic 
uously  upon  the  bed  in  the  adjoining  sleeping- 
room,  when  Margaret  entered  the  house,  and  Mrs. 
Grant  was  arrayed  in  a  shot  silk  of  orange  and 


MAKGAHET'S  HOME.  201 

blue,  the  remains  of  her  wedding  finery.  Dinner 
was  hurried ;  the  boys  being  allowed  to  come  to 
the  table  just  as  they  had  risen ;  although  the 
baby  had  on  a  clean  dress,  and  sat  up  on  the  floor 
quite  peaceably,  employed  with  a  bone  from  the 
dinner-table,  which  did  not  in  tne  end  improve 
his  personal  appearance.  • 

Mrs.  Grant's  anxiety  as  to  the  weather,  and  the 
state  of  "  the  walking,"  was  followed  by  the  mod 
est  request  that  Margaret  would  administer  the 
required  quantity  of  soap  and  water  to  the  faces 
of  the  boys,  and  look  up  their  clean  clothes. 

"  Dear  knows,  it's  seldom  enough  I  go  out  of 
the  house,  with  all  I  have  to  do ! "  she  said,  in  the 
whining  voice  which  always  grated  more  uncom 
fortably  on  Margaret's  ears  than  her  loudest  wrath. 
"  Everybody  else  can  dress  themselves  up  and  pa 
rade  the  streets  but  me.  Here  I  must  stay  and 
slave  in  this  kitchen,  just  because  some  people  are 
put  up  to  think  themselves  too  sick  to  work,  and 
other  people  allow  them  in  their  laziness.  It's  all 
very  well  to  say  I  shall  be  made  a  lady  of  some 
day.  I've  heard  that  a  great  many  times.  I 
should  like  to  see  some  of  the  money  a  little  closer." 

Yet,  for  all  this  expressed  unbelief,  Mrs.  Grant's 
9* 


202  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

special  errand  abroad  that  day,  next  to  displaying 
her  new  bonnet,  was  to  astonish  her  acquaintances 
with  the  information  that  her  husband  had  made 
a  fortune,  and  they  were  going  to  move  up  into 
Second,  or  South,  as  soon  as  their  quarter  was  up. 

"  Never  was  such  boys ! " — and  she  sat  Master 
Al  violently  down  in  his  chair — "  chasing  all  'round 
the  neighborhood,  instead  of  staying  home  to  be 
washed  and  dressed  decently.  But  when  should  1 
get  time  to  do  it,  any  way,  with  every  step  to  take  for 
myself,  and  sick  people  to  wait  on  into  the  bar 
gain  !  Dear  knows  !  if  I  could  have  my  time  to 
myself,  and  work  at  my  trade,  I  wouldn't  be  be 
holden  to  the  best  man  living  for  victuals  and 
clothes ;  but  some  people  have  every  thing  just  as 
they  say,  and  I  must  put  up  with  it,  and  be  ground 
down,  and  walked  over ! " 

It  was  hard  to  sit  still  and  bear  these  stings  of 
the  tongue,  unjust  as  they  were  ;  but  harder  still 
for  Margaret  to  see  her  father  push  away  his 
scarcely  tasted  dinner,  and  leave  the  house  to  find 
quiet,  at  least,  abroad.  She  was  glad  to  do  any 
thing  that  could  hasten  Mrs.  Grant's  departure, 
and  breathed  more  freely  when  that  lady  set  forth, 
arrayed  in  a  gay  shawl,  crowned  by  the  splendor 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  203 

of  the  new  bonnet,  and  carrying  the  baby  with 
her,  his  face  looking  out  from  tinder  a  compound 
white  satin  hat,  with  a  marvellous  plume  !  Left 
to  herself,  .the  boys  gave  little  trouble  compara 
tively,  although  they  declined  her  invitation  to 
stay  and  "  play  at  Sunday-School  "  after  they 
were  dressed — her  only  successful  method  of  reach 
ing  them. 

Ruth's  kindly  face  appeared  just  as  this  was 
accomplished,  on  her  way  to  afternoon  service., 

"  Susie  not  down  stairs  yet  ? "  she  said,  in  her 
cheery  voice.  "But  I  guess  she's  just  as  well  off 
where  she  is,  for  a  week  or  so  yet ;  keep  her  in 
bed  as  long  as  you  can.  I  don't  suppose  you'll 
leave  her  this  afternoon  again,  but  I  thought  I'd 
just  step  round  and  see.  Bless  me,  just  look  at 
the  child ! " 

Margaret  started,  as  well  as  her  visitor,  to  see 
the  apparition  at. the  foot  of  the  stairs.  It  was 
very  imprudent,  but  very  natural  on  Susie's  part. 
She  thought  Margaret  never  would  get  through, 
and,  wrapping  a  shawl  around  her,  slipped  out  of 
bed,  and  down  stairs,  at  the  risk  of  being  carried 
immediately  back  again. 

"  How  natural  it  does  look,  clock  and  all !  " — 


204  LOSS  AND  GAEST;  OE, 

said  Susie,  sitting  on  the  lower  stair,  gazing  around 
with  visible  satisfaction.  "  I'm  so  tired  of  our 
room ! " 

"  You'll  -please  go  back  to  it  as  fast  as  you  can, 
though,  you  crazy  little  thing!  Don't  wait  a 
minute  now — " 

"  But,  sister—" 

"  Not  a  word  till  you're  in  bed  again  !  Ruth 
will  come  up;  won't  you,  Ruth?"  And  Mies 
Susie  found  herself  deposited  up  stairs  before  she 
had  a  chance  to  make  even  a  feint  of  resistance. 
Ruth  sat  down  in  the  sewing-chair,  while  Mar 
garet  made  the  little  invalid's  toilet,  the  child 
being  all  excitement  at  this  partial  escape. 

"  Shoes  and  stockings,  and  a  dress.  Oh,  please 
Margaret,  a  real  dress !  not  a  clean  nightgown, 
and  that  hateful  sack !  Though  it's  a  very  nice 
sack,  and  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done 
without  it ;  only  I'm  so  tired  of  it  now.  That's 
real  good!" — and  Susie  stood  on  tiptoe  to  see 
herself  in  the  glass  over  Margaret's  dressing-table, 
but  turned  away  with  a  rueful  look. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  I'm  just  like  a  boy  !  Oh,  I  didn't 
think  I  looked  so  queer !  What  made  you  cut 
my  hair  so  close  ?  "What  am  I  going  to  do  ? " 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  205 

"  Do  ?  Why,  nothing  ;  let  it  grow,"  said  Ruth 
complacently.  "  Guess  you  wouldn't  have  had 
much  of  it  left  if  I  hadn't  cut  it  off,  or  much  of  your 
self,  either.  Hold  still,  and  let  Margaret  part  it. 
There !  frizzle  up  the  ends  a  little.  There  !  She 
does  make  a  first-rate  boy ;  doesn't  she,  Margaret  ? 
Little  peaked  yet." 

Susie's  spirits  were  beyond  her  strength,  though, 
and  she  was  soon  very  glad  of  the  easy-chair  Ruth 
had  arranged  in  her  primitive  way,  and  to  lie 
quietly  in  it,  an  odd  old-fashioned  little  figure, 
holding  a  clean  pocket  handkerchief  tightly  in 
her  almost  transparent  hands. 

Euth  found  it  was  time  to  leave  them,  when 
she  had  seen  her  fairly  settled,  and  paid  a  visit  to 
Margaret's  mirror  on  her  own  account,  not  from 
any  vanity,  but  force  of  habit,  and  exactness  ;  for 
Ruth  liked  to  pin  her  shawl  at  just  such  an  angle 
across  her  plump  figure,  and  always  gave  a  part 
ing  bend  to  her  black  Leghorn  bonnet  before  she 
went  into  the  street. 

"  I  suppose  Miss  Agnes  hasn't  been  in  to  see 
you  again,"  she  said,  turning  this  way  and  that  in 
the  vain  attempt  to  see  the  back  of  her  head. 
"  It's  hardly  time  yet,  though  ;  and  I  suppose  she's 


206  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

pretty  busy,  too.  "Well,  good-by,  children  ;  I  shall 
run  in  to  wish  you  a  merry-Christmas,  in  the 
course  of  the  week,  and  to  see  Susie's  new  frock 
on.  I  suppose  it's  to  be  done  by  then.  Don't 
come  down  to  the  door,  Margaret !  I  guess  I  can 
find  my  way  out  by  this  time." 

They  were  all  alone  again — the  house  to  them 
selves,  in  Sabbath  stillness  and  quiet.  Susie  could 
not  resist  castle-building. 

"Isn't  it  beautiful  to  be  all  alone  so?  Oh, 
sister !  don't  you  wish  we  could  be,  all  the  time  ? 
Just  suppose  this  was  our  house,  and  we  could 
have  Ruth,  or  any  one  we  liked,  come  to  take  tea 
and  spend  the  evening,  and  have  custard  for  sup 
per,  or  sponge  cake,  and  a  fire  in  the  other  room. 
I  don't  think  it's  nice  to  have  people  sitting  around 
while  dishes  are  being  washed,  and  to  have  to  ask 
them  to  move  when  we  sweep  up.  We'll  have 
two  rooms,  any  way ;  won't  we  ? " 

"  But  what  would  become  of  father  then  ?  " 

Susie's  countenance  fell.  "  That's  the  only 
thing  that  troubles  me,  when  we're  living  all 
alone.  When  I'm  playing  so,  you  know.  I  should 
like  to  have  father  always ;  and  I  think  he  would 
work  as  he  used  to,  if  he  had  a  nice  warm  room, 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  207 

and  sit  with  us  evenings,  and  read ;  don't  you  ? 
I  wonder  if  I  ought  to  wish  to  have  the  boys  too ! 
But  I  can't,  yet ;  though  I  may,  some  day,  when 
they  don't  teaze  me  so." 

"  Well,"  said  Margaret,  "  I  suppose  that  we 
might  be  doing  better  to-day,  at  all  events,  than 
turning  the  boys  out  of  house  and  home.  You 
haven't  told  me  yet  what  you  did  all  the  morning. 
Oh!  did -Ruth  tell  you  Miss  Agnes'  last  name? 
I  meant  to  have  asked  her.  Perhaps  it's  some 
one  that  used  to  go  to  Sunday-School  when  I 
did." 

"JsTo,  I  forgot.  We  always  have  so  many 
things  to  say  when  we  begin  to  talk  about  her. 
I  do  hope  she  will  come  again.  She  could  come 
and  take  tea  with  us,  perhaps,  if  it  was  all  our 
house.  How  nice  it  would  be  to  hear  her  and  you 
talk  together !  I  shouldn't  want  to  say  a  word." 

It  was  not  Susie's  unknown  friend,  but  Ade 
laide  Long,  who  rose  before  Margaret  while  Susie 
rambled  on.  But  she  claimed  a  truce  with  her 
own  heart  for  the  time.  She  must  be  all  alone 
with  her  God ;  not  even  the  child  for  a  witness  to 
that  final  conflict. 


208  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

"  But  what  did  you  do  while  I  was  gone  to 
church,  dear  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  was  going  to  tell  you !  I  read  the 
Psalms,  and  the  Lessons,  and  then  I  found  my 
text  in  the  Bible  and  learned  it.  T  think  it  such 
a  nice  plan  to  say  my  text  to  you  every  night,  and 
I  read  so  many  little  bits  before  I  find  it !  How 
many  sick  people  and  blind  people  Jesus  cured  ; 
didn't  he  ?  I  learned  a  verse  in  Komans  to-day, 
where  all  the  short  ones  are." 

Margaret  looked  for  the  well-known  chapter 
in  the  Bible  she  had  taken  from  her  dressing-table, 
while  Susie  folded  her  hands,  as  she  had  said  her 
prayers  in  babyhood,  and  repeated — 

"  Dearly  beloved,  avenge  not  yourselves  ;  but 
rather  give  place  nnto  wrath  :  for  it  is  written, 
vengeance  is  mine  ;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord.' 
I  learned  that  to  put  me  in  mind  not  to  talk  back, 
or  be  ugly  when  I  go  down  stairs  again.  I  knew 
I  shouldn't  do  it,  ever,"  added  the  child,  in  a  pen 
itent  tone. 

But  Margaret  had  gone  on  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter,  wondering  if  the  message  had  not  come 
to  her  instead  of  Susie. 

She  remembered  the  simple  direction  she  had 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  209 

so  often  relied  on  in  darkness  and  doubt :  "  If 
any  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God."  She  had 
asked  it  all  that  day,  and  what  direction  had  she 
received  ?  To  give  up  all  that  led  to  temptation, 
though  dear  as  her  own  right  hand  ;  to  leave  re 
tribution  to  one  who  knew  all,  and  could  make 
her  innocence  clear  as  the  noonday.  Self-con 
quest,  at  any  sacrifice,  was  before  her ,  and  the 
first  step  was  to  turn  away  from  every  association 
that  had  nourished  her  foolish  dream,  or  that  could 
lead  her  into  temptation  of  cherishing  unavailing 
murmurs  at  her  lot.  She  must  give  up  her  place 
to  do  this ;  and  it  must  be  done  at  once.  It  in 
volved  all  her  dependence ;  she  had  no  other  re 
source,  no  friend  to  secure  another  situation. 
Could  it  be  duty  ?  and  the  thought  of  Susie  turn 
ing  to  her  for  every  little  comfort  or  pleasure,  and 
her  father  absolutely  in  need  of  her  aid.  Of  a 
truth  the  right  hand  and  the  right  eye  was  re 
quired  of  her. 

But  might  she  not,  at  least,  free  herself  from 
this  humbling  suspicion  before  she  left  ?  "Would 
it  be  more  than  simple  justice,  such  as  another 
might  demand  of  her  ;  for,  if  she  gave  no  explan 
ation — and  what  could  she  give  ? — the  very  act 


210  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OE, 

would  be  held  as  proof  of  her  guilt.  Mr.  Church 
ill  might  doubt  it  now,  at  times — as  to-day,  it  had 
seemed  forgotten — even  he  could  then  hold  her 
guilt  as  certain.  And  yet  she  read  again,  and  the 
words  burned  themselves  upon  her  memory : 
"  Avenge  not  yourselves  ;  if  thine  enemy  hunger, 
feed  him ;  if  he  thirst,  give  him  drink.  Be  not 
overcome  of  evil,  but  overcome  evil  with  good." 
And  was  not  concealment  the  meat  and  drink  her 
enemy  had  need  of ! 

Poor  girl !  The  strength  to  make  this  utter 
self-renunciation  could  come  alone  from  the  hand 
that  required  it ;  and  while  Susie,  wearied  by  un 
usual  exertion,  slept  lightly  in  the  comfortable 
chair,  Margaret  knelt  and  prayed  as  she  had  not 
done  for  many  a  day,  with  wrung,  outstretched 
hands,  and  bitterness  of  heart  that  none  but  God 
could  know. 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  211 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

THE  like  of  Christmas  week  in  Philadelphia 
is  not  to  be  found  in  any  city  in  our  land.  The 
German  element  in  its  population  has  overcome 
the  little  of  Puritan  prejudice  to  this  most  cheer 
ful  and  Christian  festival  which  may  have  been 
infused  in  early  times,  and  even  the  straightness 
of  "  yearly  meeting"  councils  has  in  these  later 
generations  enlarged  itself  to  some  degree  of  par 
ticipation  in  the  general  gayety. 

ISTew  York  stands  divided  as  to  its  holidays, 
the  "New  Year  claiming  precedence  with  some, 
while  others  have  nearly  finished  their  merry 
making  when  it  arrives.  But  in  Philadelphia  old 
and  young  unite  by  general  consent  to  give  chief 
honor  to  "  Father  Christmas." 

There  are  many,  it  is  true,  who  still  hold  it 
only  in  its  social  aspect,  and  have  quite  forgotten 


212  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

the  "gold,  and  frankincense,  and  myrrh,"  those 
first  Christmas  offerings,  that  have  hallowed  the 
tokens  of  peace  and  good-will  which  we  now  ex 
change.  But  the  gift-making,  on  what  founda. 
tion  soever  it  may  be  placed,  is  as  universal  as  the 
feasting,  and  the  whole  city  is  given  up  to  a 
week's  festivity — festal  in  its  cheerful  streets,  with 
their  brilliant  holiday  array ;  in  its  bountiful  and 
bustling  markets — all  its  days  are  "  market  days" 
— in  choice  and  abundance,  and  in  the  brightened 
houses,  where  the  poorest  twine  Christmas  wreaths, 
and  the  least  expectant  child  watches  for  the  com 
ing  of  Santa  Glaus. 

Unfortunately,  the  weather  seems  to  hold  to 
the  musical  direction — "  prepare  for  harmony  by 
discords" — and  usually  commences  by  a  light 
fall  of  snow,  just  sufficient  to  combine  with  the 
dust,  and  soaking  rain,  its  general  termination, 
into  almost  impossible  crossings,  and  detestable 
walking  generally.  Not  that  this  at  all  interferes 
with  the  week's  engagements :  bonnets  and  cloaks 
that  have  been  carefully  housed  for  fine  days 
all  winter  are  submitted  recklessly  to  the  frail 
defence  of  umbrellas ;  omnibuses  are  crowded 
and  steaming ;  while  carriage-horses,  whose  con- 


MARGAKET'S  HOME.  213 

stitutions  are  usually  regarded  with  excessive 
tenderness  by  their  owners,  stand  for  hours, 
draggled  and  forlorn,  before  the  principal  shops. 
It  is  strange  that  all  this  exposure  seldom  pro 
duces  any  ill  effect — "  no  one  takes  cold  at  Christ 
mas  time ;  " — the  internal  glow  and  excitement 
are  equal  to  the  most  impenetrable  Mackintosh. 

It  is  true  that  all  this  shopping  ig  not  "  wisely 
sped ; "  that  people  will  go  beyond  their  means, 
led  on  'by  ostentation,  caprice,  or  pure  benevo 
lence  ;  but  somebody  is  the  gainer  for  it,  and 
there  must  be  excess  in  all  effervescence  of  spirits, 
whether  individual  or  social ;  and  the  year's  crust 
of  selfishness  is  very  apt  to  be  lessened,  or  dis 
appear  altogether  for  the  time  being. 

The  Christmas  week  of  which  we  write  did  no 
discredit  to  its  predecessors.  The  shops  and 
markets  put  on  their  most  tempting  aspects,  the 
weather  its  most  deplorable  one.  Overhead  som 
bre  skies,  dripping  moisture  everywhere  around, 
penetrating  the  garments  of  those  who  went 
abroad,  and  even  the  houses.  Monday  was  its 
only  day  of  sunshine,  and  those  who  were  wise 
availed  themselves  of  it ;  but  by  far  the  greater 
portion  of  the  community  "  put  off "  out-of-door 


214  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

expeditions  in  the  face  of  many  such  yearly  re 
verses  of  the  weather. 

Mrs.  Churchill  did  not  share  in  this  monoma 
nia  for  deferring  necessary  purchases  until  the 
best  of  the  markets  was  exhausted,  and  the  press 
of  customers  at  Henrion's  or  Tyndale's  became 
so  great  that  shoppers  were  kept  hours  watching 
for  even  a  place  at  the  counter,  while  their  horses 
suffered  outside  as  aforesaid,  and  their  husbands 
waited  dinner  in  vain,  in  the  hope  of  having 
the  light  of  their  countenances  behind  the  soup- 
tureen. 

For  a  whole  week  past,  mysterious  conferences 
with  "  father"  had  been  going  on,  and  their  re 
sults  stored  away  in  the  capacious  depths  of  her 
own  dressing-bureau  drawers.  Mr.  Churchill  de 
lighted  in  such  errands — in  lingering  over  the 
glass  cases  at  Bailey's,  and  wishing  that  he  had 
more  children  still  unsupplied  with  watches,  or 
ready  for  tea  equipages — in  snuffing  the  foreign 
odor  of  the  great  camphor  chests  in  the  shawl- 
department  of  his  son's  establishment,  and  won 
dering  who  could  be  presented,  with  propriety, 
one  of  those  undoubted  cashmeres.  Every  clerk 
at  Tyndale's  welcomed  the  approach  of  his  benevo- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  215 

lent  face  and  gold-headed  cane,  certain  of  one 
customer  who  had  not  .come  "just  to  look  this 
time,  and  would  call  again  in  a  few  days ;"  or 
beat  down  the  prices  of  delicate  French  importa 
tions  to  the  homelier  demand  for  stout  Stafford 
shire  potteries. 

These  Christmas  errands  Mrs.  Churchill  was 
content  to  have  executed  for  her,  assured  that  they 
would  be  done  in  the  most  tasteful  and  liberal 
manner,  for  there  was  Agnes  to  assist  in  choosing 
Kate's  present,  and  Kate  for  Agnes,  when  it  fell 
quite  out  of  "  father's"  way.  But  the  filling  of 
store-room  and  meat-safe  she  superintended  per 
sonally.  She  could  not  trust  even  her  husband 
in  so  nice  a  matter  as  the  choice  of  beef  and  poul 
try  for  this  occasion — or  perhaps,  to  speak  the 
more  literal  truth,  she  could  not  forego  the  pleas 
ure  of  seeing  the  generous  provision  in  market  for 
the  wants  of  householders  like  herself — of  exam 
ining  Bucks  county  fow]s,  tasting  golden  butter 
prints,  seeing  the  fresh  eggs  counted  down  like  so 
many  monstrous  pearls,  and  passing  the  cheerful 
compliments  of  the  season  with  tradespeople  she 
had  known  for  twenty  years  or  more,  whose  daily 
customer  she  had  been  in  times  that  she  still  sighed 


216  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

for,  when  it  was  the  fashion  for  all  housekeepers 
to  go  to  market  themselves.  She  loved  the  very 
sight  of  the  market-houses,  with  their  piled-up 
wreaths  of  evergreens,  their  goodly  forests  of 
Christmas-trees  and  gay  branches  of  scarlet  berries. 
There  was  a  genuine  satisfaction  in  the  purchase 
of  cheap  toys  (chiefly  for  the  families  of  her  mar 
ried  servants,  whom  she  never  lost  sight  of),  and 
buttons,  and  thread  and  needles  for  those  now  in 
her  employ,  from  the  transient  stalls  at  the  en 
trance.  She  would  have .  exhausted  the  entire 
stock  if-she  could  have  thought  of  enough  people 
to  bestow  it  upon  properly,  and  as  it  was,  seldom 
left  any  great  supply  behind  her.  There  were  no 
forbidden  "  greetings  in  the  market-places,"  but 
"  God  speeds"  in  their  kindliest  sense,  and  many 
a  poor  widow  felt  the  more  certain  of  a  good 
week's  business  from  the  cheerful  salutation  of 
this  best  of  women. 

At  the  breakfast-table,  then,  Mrs.  Churchill 
made  her  appearance,  fresh  and  rosy,  from  an  early 
expedition,  and  presently  John  and  his  appetis 
ing  burden  arrived  also  ;  the  covers  of  both  well- 
laden  baskets  upheaved  by  the  protruding  legs  of 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  217 

poultry,  while  any  imaginable  addition  to  good 
cheer  was  safely  bestowed  in  their  depths. 

Kate  knotted  the  cord  of  her  pretty  dressing- 
gown  with  a  little  shiver. 

"  ~No  peace  to  the  house  now  for  a  week  !  I 
should  go  without  turkey  and  chicken-pie  till  an 
other  Christmas,  before  I  should  turn  out  of  a  com 
fortable  bed  so  early  in  the  morning,  and  go  wad 
ing  through  those  dirty  markets  !" 

"  You  don't  know  what  you  will  do  till  you 
get  a  house  of  your  own,"  remarked  her  mother 
reprovingly,  for  Kate's  lack  of  house-keeping 
taste  was  a  sore  trial  in  that  quarter.  "  I've 
heard  girls  talk  just  so  before,  and  make  splendid 
housekeepers  when  they  were  once  settled  down. 
Besides,  my  dear,  our  markets  are  not  dirty.  I 
beg  you  will  not  say  that  again.  All  Philadel- 
phians  should  be  proud  of  them.  You  should  see 
those  miserable  little  stores  they  depend  upon  in 
some  places  I  could  name,  and  even  their  markets 
more  like  great  stables — " 

"  Or  shambles,"  suggested  Lewis,  mischiev 
ously. 

"  Than  a  respectable  market^"  concluded  Mrs. 

Churchill,  gravely. 
10  " 


218  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

"  What's  the  first  thing  on  the  programme  ?" 
said  her  husband,  helping  himself,  for  the  fifth 
time,  to  flannel-cakes.  "  Who's  going  down  town 
with  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  it's  quite  too  early  for  shopping !  that 
is  to  say,  unless  you  need  the  girls  very  much.  I 
shall  want  them  both,  if  this  afternoon  will  do  just 
as  well." 

"  Those  everlasting  plum-puddings  !  Oh,  Ag 
nes  ! "  And  Kate  put  on  a  pretty  air  of  con 
sternation. 

"  It  isn't  often  I  call  upon  you,  my  dear,  I'm 
sure,"  said  her  mother,  with  a  little  pique  in  her 
tone.  "  Agnes  is  usually  so  kind  and  considerate. 
I  should  think  that  once  a  year  you  might  assist 
us  a  little." 

"  Where's  the  cook  ? "  inquired  papa,  with  a 
dread  of  seeing  his  favorite's  face  clouded,  and  an 
inward  desire  for  her  gay  companionship  for  his 
morning's  walk. 

"  It's  Monday,  father.  You  don't  seem  to  re 
collect  ;  and,  though  we  give  most  of  our  washing 
out,  there's  always  enough  to  keep  the  girls  pretty 
busy,  as  I  often  have  to  explain  to  Kate.  It's  the 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  219 

last  week  in  the  year  to  have  things  put  off,  or 
broken  in  upon." 

For  once  in  her  life,  Mrs.  Churchill  showed  a 
degree  of  valiant  determination,  and  carried  the 
day.  "  Father"  was  obliged  to  accept  the  escort 
of  Lewis,  and  Miss  Kate  to  resign  herself  to  do 
mestic  trials,  though  she  absorbed  herself  lazily  in 
in  the  "  North  American"  while  the  table  was 
cleared ;  and  Agnes  and  her  mother  washed  up 
the  silver  and  china,  an  established  habit  in  the 
family,  the  little  cedar  tub,  the  soap  tray,  and  its 
concomitants  making  their  appearance  as  regularly 
as  breakfast  itself. 

This  was  Mrs.  Churchill's  time  for  settling  all 
her  little  housekeeping  matters,  not  allowing  them 
to  obtrude  their  unwelcome  faces  with  unanswer 
able  demands  upon  her  time  and  attention  later  in 
the  day.  From  the  dining-room  to  the  store- 
closet,  and  thence  to  the  kitchen,  was  her  regular 
round.  After  which,  the  chambermaid  was  drilled 
and  reviewed,  the  linen-closet  put  to  rights  ;  and 
then,  as  she  expressed  it,  "  her  mind  was  free  for 
anything  that  might  turn  up." 

But  to-day,  Agnes  was  invited  to  accompany 
her  to  the  store-room,  and  assist  in  the  weighing 


220  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

out  of  certain  of  its  contents.  Mrs.  Churchill's 
store-room  was  a  goodly  sight,  with  its  well-filled 
bins  of  sugars  and  rice,  its  bags  of  coffee,  chests  of 
tea,  barrels  of  all  the  flours  that  could  be  com 
pounded  into  the  staff  of  life — extra  Genesee,  un 
bolted  Graham,  Buckwheat  and  Indian-meal  stand 
ing  conspicuous.  The  shelves  rivalled  the  corner 
grocers'  in  their  array — the  flasks  of  pure  Floren 
tine  oil,  the  rank  and  file  of  English  mustard  and 
sauce  bottles — and  surpassed  them  in  rows  upon 
rows  of  labelled  jelly  and  sweetmeat  glasses,  bran- 
died  fruit,  and  those  blue  Canton  jars,  with  their 
cordage  net- work,  so  welcome  to  lovers  of  foreign 
confections.  It  was  wel  Ithat  there  were  no  school 
boys  to  be  tempted  by  a  glimpse  into  this  para 
dise,  for  the  cake-boxes  presented  a  never-failing 
supply  in  addition. 

Mrs.  Churchill  called  upon  John  to  carry  the 
store-room  scales  to  the  now  empty  side-table 
before  Miss  Kate,  and  weighed,  with  her  own 
hands,  the  mysterious  compounds  that  enter  into 
that  crowning  dish  of  an  old-fashioned  Christmas- 
dinner,  a  plum-pudding,  which,  we  grieve  to  say, 
is  passing  out  of  sight  in  this  dyspeptic  day  and 
generation.  Suet,  raisins,  currants,  spices,  citron, 


MAKGAEET'S  HOME.  221 

rose-water,  and  divers  other  ingredients  soon 
gathered  about  Mrs.  Churchill,  whose  spirits  rose 
with  the  genial  employment,  till  the  lexcite- 
ment,  as  was  usual  with  her,  vented  itself  in  a 
little  flow  of  conversation,  including  all  about  her: 
"  It's  high  time,  my  dear,  that  you  put  up  your 
paper.  Kate,  my  love,  do  you  hear?  Which 
will  you  do,  currants  or  raisins  ?  You  had  better 
both  commence  upon  the  raisins.  John,  take 
them  to  cook,  and  tell  her  to  wash  them  care 
fully." 

"  He's  forgotten  the  currants,  too."  And  Kate 
caught  up  the  dish  to  walk  after  him. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  no  !  I  could  not  depend  upon 
cook  in  the  least  for  the  currants.  My  mother 
always  said  there  never  was  a  cook  yet  that  could 
be  trusted  with  fruit ;  and  we  used  twice  as  much, 
in  old  times.  John,  bring  me  a  large  pail  of  fresh 
water  ;  it  takes  so  much,  Agnes ;  well,  you  may 
do  it,  as  I  am  a  little  afraid  of  neuralgia  ;  and  it's 
quite  a  task.  Six  waters,  recollect." 

"  Six  waters  ! "  said  Kate,  nibbling  a  bit  of 
candied  citron  she  had  broken  off  from  the  mass. 

"  Yes,  six  is  the  rule."  Mrs.  Churchill  looked 
relieved  by  this  token  of  awakening  interest  in 


222  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

her  youngest  daughter.  "  Currants  are  a  great 
trial.  Nobody  knows  that  better  than  myself,  as 
I've  washed  eight  pounds  for  my  pies  and  pud 
dings  every  Christmas  since  I  was  your  age. 
There,  John,  change  that  water  for  Miss  Agnes. 
The  second,  is  it  ?  "Well,  this  is  the  third  now. 
John,  ask  Nancy  for  two  of  my  clean  gingham 
aprons,  in  the  right-hand  drawer.  My  love,  you'll 
ruin  your  dressing-gown.  To  seed  raisins,  you 
must  have  a  clean  towel  and  finger-bowl  to  get 
along  at  all.  There,  take  this  apron,  Kate  ;  and 
I  beg  of  you  to  be  careful.  One  stone  may  spoil 
a  pudding,  as  my  mother  used  to  say." 

"  But,  mother,  I  thought  you  and  papa  were 
such  plain  people  when  you  were  first  married," 
said  Kate,  holding  up  a  rich,  purplish  cluster  to 
the  light,  before  falling  to  work  with  her  accus 
tomed  energy,  for  whatever  Kate  Churchill  really 
set  herself  to  do  was  done  heartily. 

"  Oh,  we  were,  you  know !  .but  we  took  our 
Christmas  dinner  at  home  for  five  years ;  and  I 
always  went  to  help  my  mother  make  the  pud 
dings.  She  would  not  have  known  what  to  do 
without  me." 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  223 

"  I  came  by  the  old  house,"  said  Agnes,  "  the 
last  time  I  went  to  see  my  scholars." 

"  How  out  of  the  world  it  is  ! — Third  below 
Lombard." 

"  It  was  not  then,  I  can  assure  you,  Kate — 
quite  as  fashionable,  or  more  so,  than  Arch  Street 
is  now." 

"  Papa  was  a  poor  man,  wasn't  he,  mother  ? 
Dear  me  !  I  never  could  marry  one  !  " 

"  You  might  do  much  worse,  my  dear." 

"  Oh,  but  the  having  to  do  without  things, 
and  to  live  in  a  little  narrow  street,  and  keep  one 
maid,  and  be  dragging  with  children  all  day ! " 

"  I  had  no  nurse-maid  for  Agnes  and  Lewis, 
though.  It  was  not  customary  to  keep  so  many 
servants,  though  their  wages  were  nothing  to  what 
we  pay  now.  Besides,  we  could  not  afford  it ;  but 
I  would  do  the  same  thing  over  again  for  your 
father.  Even  when  Lewis  had  his  broken  arm, 
and  Agnes  the  scarlet  fever  at  the  same  time,  and 
no  one  to  depend  on  but  myself,  I  never  said  I 
was  sorry,  and  never  felt  so.  There,  now  you 
can  spread  those  currants  on  the  tray,  Agnes,  and 
set  them  over  the  register.  John,  take  away 
those  things.  ISTow  we  can  settle  ourselves  to 


224:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

work  comfortably,  though  I'm  afraid  my  eyesight, 
even  with  my  spectacles,  isn't  good  enough  for 
currants.  I  think  I  will  change  with  you  alto 
gether,  Agnes,  if  you  take  up  eight  or  ten  at  once 
on  a  napkin,  and  rub  them  gently.  There,  that's 
it!" 

" But  did  you  have  to  work  so  hard,  really? " 
said  Kate,  going  back  to  the  phase  in  her  mother's 
life  which  her  ease-loving  nature  could  never  quite 
comprehend  as  a  happy  one.  "  I  should  have 
thought  grandfather  would  have  helped  you." 

"  Oh,  he  did  make  us  some  very  handsome 
presents,  handsome  for  those  days ;  but  he  said, 
from  the  first,  that,  if  I  chose  to  marry  your  father, 
I  must  abide  by  my  choice,  and  take  the  brunt  of 
it.  I  remember  my  Uncle  Jacob's  wife,  Aunt 
Jacob  we  used  to  call  her,  as  there  were  two 
Aunt  Marys.  Well,  she  said,  one  day,  she  was 
quite  offended  by  the  match,  because  she  thought 
it  lowered  the  family  somehow,  though  I  never 
dared  to  let  your  father  know  it.  She  said :  '  I 
never  should  have  thought  you  would  have  allowed 
one  of  your  daughters  to  marry  a  man  who  was 
not  a  gentleman.' 

"  '  "What  makes  a  gentleman  ? '  said  my  father. 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  225 

I  can  see  him  rap  his  shell  snuff-box  now,  and  look 
up  at  her  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"  '  Oh,  money ! '  said  she,  '  to  be  sure ! ' 

"  '  Well,  then,'  said  my  father,  '  I'll  make  a 
gentleman  of  him  some  day,  if  he  doesn't  make 
himself  one  first.'  That  was  very  good,  wasn't  it, 
Agnes  ? " 

This  family  anecdote  was  by  no  means  quite 
new  to  the  listeners ;  but  Mrs.  Churchill  always 
told  it  with  such  visible  satisfaction  and  pride, 
that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  listen  to  the  thrice-told 
tale  ;  though  Kate  darted  a  wicked  look  across  the 
rapidly  diminishing  pile  of  fruit  as  she  heard  it 
approaching. 

"I  never  cared  about  any  of  my  children 
making  wealthy  matches  for  that  reason,"  added 
Mrs.  Churchill.  "  Nobody  could  be  happier  than 
your  father  and  I  were;  though  I  know  some 
people  pitied  us,  Aunt  Jacob  for  one.  We  always 
had  enough  to  eat  and  to  .wear ;  and  we  have  been 
very  much  blessed,  I  must  say." 

"There's  no  danger  of  me  ;  and  Anne's  done 
for;  as  for  Lewis,  Josephine  will  have  enough." 

"  I  heard  on  Saturday — that  reminds  me,"  said 


10* 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

Agnes — "  that  Morton  Sargeant  was  addressing 
her." 

"  There's  not  a  bit  of  truth  in  it,"  said  Kate, 
hotly.  "  He  was  at  the  concert  the  other  night. 
I  depend  on  having  her  for  a  sister ;  and  I  just 
wish  Lewis  would  hurry  up  the  wedding.  Only 
think,  I've  never  been  bridesmaid  yet !  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  very  much  afraid  that  house  next 
to  Anne's  will  be  rented.  What  does  he  say  about 
it,  Agnes  ? " 

Agnes  was  usually  appealed  to  when  any  one 
desired  to  know  the  movements  and  opinions  of 
her  brother;  but,  of  this  impending  marriage, 
Agnes  knew  no  more  than  the  rest.  She  hoped — 
she  could  scarcely  tell  why — that  something  would 
interfere  with  it  even  yet. 

An  unusual  silence  settled  on  the  whole  group, 
each  of  them  privately  speculating  on  the  probable 
course  of  events. 

"  Oh  dear ! "  groaned  Kate,  presently,  "  I  be 
lieve  there's  no  end  to  these  raisins ;  and  Agnes 
gets  on  at  the  rate  of  a  currant  a  minute.  Can't 
I  cut  up  the  citron  or  beat  the  eggs  ? " 

"  Eighteen  eggs  would  be  rather  too  much  for 
you,  my  dear ;  but  you  may  cut  up  the  citron,  if 


MAJKGAEET'S  HOME.  227 

you  like.  Dear  me,  Agnes,  I  had  quite  forgotten 
the  bread-crumbs  !  It  seems  to  me  as  if  my  mem 
ory  gets  worse  and  worse.  You  may  grate  the 
bread,  Kate.  Yes,  you'd  better  do  it  at  once  ;  and 
then  I  think  Agnes  and  I  can  manage  the  rest ; 
can't  we,  Agnes  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Churchill,  relent- 
ingly.  "  I  suppose  you  ought  to  have  your  walk 
this  morning,  as  we  are  going  out-  after  dinner, 
and  do  go  round  by  Anne's,  and  see  how  Charley 
is.  I'm  afraid  I  sha'n't  have  a  moment  to-day." 
But  Kate's  release  was  nearer  still,  for  John 
made  his  appearance  the  next  moment  to  announce 
visitors,  and  their  reception  and  entertainment 
were  much  more  to  her  taste  than  even  the  bread 
crumbs  ;  while  Agnes  passed  quietly  through  the 
double  duty,  and  remained  at  her  post  until  the 
final  incorporation  of  eggs,  cream,  suet,  fruit,  and 
minor  ingredients,  which  crowning  operation  Mrs. 
Churchill  would  by  no  means  delegate  even  to 
her. 


228  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

"  KATE  isn't  here  ? "  questioned  Josephine 
Wright,  as  she  opened  the  door  of  Mrs.  Anne 
Parker's  snug  little  sewing-room  :  "  may  I  come 
in?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  ;  "  and  Mrs.  Parker,  the  mar 
ried  sister  of  the  Clmrchills,  made  way  for  her 
visitor  to  advance,  through  the  confusion  of  furni 
ture  and  toys  which  Master  Charley  had  created. 

The  young  gentleman  himself,  the  most  promi 
nent  member  of  the  Parker  family,  eyed  the  new 
comer  with  more  indifference  than  curiosity,  and 
returned  to  the  tin  dray,  which  he  was  industri 
ously  loading  with  his  father's  chess-men. 

"  You  have  come  to  take  tea  with  us,  I  hope," 
said  Mrs.  Parker,  who  resembled  her  mother  in 
all  things,  especially  in  her  hospitable  spirit. 
"  Let  me  take  your  furs ;  or,  will  you  go  up  to  my 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  229 

room  and  lay  off  your  things  ?  There,  Charley,  not 
quite  so  much  noise !  " 

"  Oh,  no  indeed  !  "  Miss  Wright  could  not 
possibly  have  made  up  her  mind  to  have  such  a 
humdrum  proceeding  as  a  domestic  tete-d-tdte  tea, 
and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  muff  which  her  hostess 
essayed  to  take. 

"  Do,  now ;  we  shall  be  quite  alone,  and 
Charley's  papa  will  be  delighted  to  find  you  here, 
I  am  sure  !  "  Mrs.  Parker  remembered,  with  sat 
isfaction,  that  there  were  to  be  hot  biscuit  and 
oysters  for  supper,  at  all  events,  and  it  would  not 
put  the  cook  out  in  the  least. 

"  I  could  not  possibly ;  I  have  an  engagement 
for  the  evening ;  some  other  time ;  "  and  Josephine 
mentally  wondered  how  any  one  could  content 
herself  to  sit  in  a  back  room  all  the  afternoon 
and  sew,  as  Mrs.  Parker  had  been  doing,  with  a 
child  bothering  about  into  the  bargain. 

"  I  expected  to  find  Kate  waiting  for  me ;  she 
promised  to  be  here  at  five,  and  I  have  the  car 
riage  ;  I  was  to  call  for  her.  It  is  a  quarter  past 
now." 

"She  will    be    here   very   soon,   then;    she 


230  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

usually  comes  round  every  day  for  a  romp  with 
Charley." 

Mrs.  Parker  turned  to  that  young  gentleman, 
and  held  out  her  hand.  She  wondered,  in  turn, 
how  any  one  could  resist  those  bright  black  eyes, 
and  round  white  shoulders,  set  off  by  his  plaid 
frock  and  low-necked  linen  apron.  Mrs.  Parker 
pitied  her  unmarried  friends  sincerely,  and  wished 
that  every  one  could  have  just  such  a  good  hus 
band  and  lovely  child  as  she  had.  As  for  married 
people  who  did  not  like  children,  or  wish  for  them, 
they  were  monsters,  in  her  eyes,  "  most  tolerable 
and  not  to  be  endured  !  " 

"  You  see  I  came  right  up,"  said  Miss  "Wright, 
with  the  air  of  a  privileged  person.  "  The  waiter 
girl " — a  tautology  peculiar  to  Miss  Josephine's 
Philadelphia  education — "  told  me  you  were  here, 
and  I  would  not  wait  in  the  parlor,  it  seemed  so 
formal  somehow,  Kate  and  I  are  so  intimate." 

"  Oh,  it  was  quite  right ;  "  and  Mrs.  Parker, 
who  was  of  a  social  nature  herself,  really  felt 
pleased  at  this  advance  on  the  part  of  Kate's  sty 
lish  friend,  especially  as  she  had  heard  some  hints 
from  mamma  of  the  family  expectations.  "  I  hope 
you  will  never  make  a  stranger  of  me.  "Won't 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  231 

you  come  and  see  the  pretty  lady,  Charley  ?  Who 
is  it,  dear — your  Aunt  Katie  ? " 

Children  have  an  instinctive  appreciation  of 
character,  so  far  as  they  themselves  are  concerned, 
and  though  Miss  Wright  held  out  her  well-gloved 
hand,  and  seconded  his  mother's  invitation,  Mas 
ter  Charley  declined. 

"  He's  so  interested  just  now  about  Christmas," 
said  Mrs.  Parker,  whose  range  of  conversational 
topics  was  limited,  and  as  she  could  find  none 
more  agreeable  to  herself,  fell  into  the  common 
mistake  of  supposing  that  it  would  be  equally 
entertaining  to  her  guest.  "  Charley !  who  comes 
down  chimney  with  all  sorts  of  pretty  things? 
(You  wouldn't  suppose  now  that  he  would  remem 
ber  about  it ;  his  father  told  him.)  Come,  tell  the 
lady,  Charley ! " 

"  Santa  Claus  !  "  said  Master  Charley,  thus 
adjured.  "  He  bring  Tarlie  itty  back  wow." 

"  He  means  a  little  black  dog,"  interpreted 
Mrs.  Parker.  "  He's  quite  crazy  about  it,  and  I 
was  all  the  morning  hunting  for  one  of  those  curly 
ones — don't  you  know  the  kind  ? — with  long  ears ; 
a  toy  dog,  of  course,  I  mean.  It  seemed  as  if 
everybody  I  knew  was  out.  I  could  find  plenty 


232  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

of  them, — the  dogs  I  mean, — white  ones,  but  no 
black.  I  wanted  to  see  Kate  to  tell  her  to  look  too. 
I  shall  be  terribly  disappointed  if  I  don't  find  one, 
as  he  has  set  his  heart  on  it,  and  so  will  Charley's 
papa." 

"  Tarlie's  putty  tat  yun  up  er  tair !  "  shouted 
the  miniature  drayman,  on  the  floor,  proud  of  his 
last  accomplishment,  sentence  making,  although 
his  efforts  so  far  were  confined  to  the  two  we  have 
recorded. 

"  He  means  Charley's  pussy  cat  ran  up  stairs," 
interposed  the  delighted  mother.  "It  was  his 
first  sentence,  and  we  were  very  proud  of  it,  I 
assure  you.  I  was  standing  by  the  back  parlor 
door,  and  he  was  playing  with  the  cat  in  the  hall, 
who  got  away  from  him,  and  ran  up  to  my  room. 
I  never  was  more  astonished  in  my  life  than  I  was 
to  hear  him  say  it.  His  father  would  hardly  be 
lieve  me  when  he  came  home  and  I  told  him  of 
it ;  but  he  said  it  again,  and  has  never  forgotten 
it  since." 

An  audible  peal  of  the  door-bell  interrupted 
this  maternal  eloquence,  although^Mrs.  Parker 
called  her  visitor's  attention  to  the  "  cunning  way  " 
in  which  Charley  put  up  his  little  fat  hand,  and 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  233 

said  "  hart !  "  in  a  low  voice.  It  was  evidently 
hard  work  to  restrain  herself  from  catching  him 
up  and  kissing  him  in  an  ecstasy,  for  Charley  was 
no  exception  to  the  general  run  of  juveniles,  and 
usually  declined  pertinaciously  all  entreaties  to 
"show  off"  before  company. 

"  I  think  that  must  be  Kate  "  — and  Miss 
"Wright  tried  not  to  look  too  much  relieved  by  the 
arrival.  It  was  now  quite  dark  out  of  doors,  and 
the  gas  had  been  lighted  some  time. 

"  KQ  ;  it's  not  Kate's  step,  it's  a  gentleman, 
and  Mr.  Parker  never  gets  home  before  six.  Who 
can  it  be  ? " 

Miss  Wright's  heart  took  up  a  quick-step,  as  a 
firm  tread  passed  through  the  hall,  and  some  one 
sprang  up  the  half  flight  of  stairs,  evidently  a 
privileged  intruder. 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure  it's  Lewis,  he  often  comes 
round  on  his  way  from  the  store ;  sit  still,  we  never 
mind  him;  and  he's  so  fond  of  a  romp  with 
Charley." 

Miss  Wright  obeyed  the  injunction,  and  re 
mained  very  quietly  in  her  dark  corner,  with  her 
face  turned  from  the  shaded  light ;  but  she  watched 
the  door  eagerly,  for  this  was  better  than  her 


234:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

hopes.  She  had  thought  he  might  accompany 
Kate  ;  but  what  if  Kate  should  not  come  at  all,  and 
common  politeness  would  make  her  offer  of  setting 
him  down,  as  she  passed  the  house,  a  necessity, 
and  his  declining  an  impossibility  ? 

"  Hurrah,  young  gentleman  ! "  And  Master 
Charley  was  caught  up,  and  tossed  within  an  inch 
of  the  ceiling  before  he  could  steer  himself  around 
to  see  who  had  arrived.  "  B[ow  are  you,  Anne? 
JSTow,  sir,  where's  a  kiss  for  your  uncle  ?  " 

Miss  "Wright,  looking  on,  thought  "  He's  very 
fine-looking,  after  all,  if  he  is  so  solemn  usually. 
What  a  tall,  nice  figure !  I  had  no  idea  he  could 
romp  so." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  see  Miss  "Wright,  Lewis," 
said  Mrs.  Parker,  always  regardful  of  propriety. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Josephine,  I  beg  your  pardon  ! " 
And  he  bowed  towards  her,  his  hands  being  en 
cumbered  by  Charley  and  Charley's  dray  at  the 
moment.  "  I  did  not  know  Kate  was  here." 

"  But  she  is  not,"  said  Mrs.  Parker ;  "  that's 
the  very  thing.  Miss  "Wright  has  been  waiting 
here  until  I'm  sure  she  must  be  quite  tired  out." 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,  Mrs.  Parker  !  " 

"  Well,  it's  very  careless  in  Kate ;  and  I  shall 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  235 

certainly  tell  her  so.  I  have  been  trying  to  per 
suade  Miss  "Wright  to  stay  to  tea ;  but  she  has  an 
engagement.  Can't  you,  Lewis  ? "  And  Mrs. 
Parker  thought  again  of  the  biscuit  and  oysters. 
How  fortunate  that  she  happened  to  order  them ! 

Miss  "Wright  unconsciously  leaned  forward  to 
listen  for  the  answer. 

"Not  to-night,  thank  you,  Anne.  I  hardly 
think  Kate  will  be  here,  either,  it  is  so  late  now  ; 
she  went  out  with  mother  directly  after  dinner. 
Yes,  it's  very  careless  in  her  to  forget  an  ap 
pointment." 

But,  perhaps,  having  heard  Lewis  say  at  din 
ner  that  he  should  go  round  by  Ashburton  Place 
on  his  way  home,  Miss  Kate's  detention  was  like 
the  child's  torn  clothes,  "  an  accident  done  a-pur- 
pose."  She  certainly  had  exhibited  a  wicked 
match-making  propensity  from  the  first ;  though 
she  little  dreamed  how  near  at  hand  the  wished- 
for  crisis  lay. 

"Then  I  had  better  not  wait  any  longer." 
And  Miss  "Wright  rose  to  her  feet,  drawing  up  her 
Yictorine. 

"  Oh,  don't  hurry !  she  may  be  here  yet.  Do 
wait  a  little  while." 


236  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OE, 

"  I  think  not  to-night " — and  the  lady  made  a 
step  or  two  forward.  Was  it  a  rash  move  ?  She 
hazarded  it  at  least. 

Master  Charley  was  deposited  on  the  floor. 
"  There,  that  will  do  for  this  time,  my  little  man !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  trouble  yourself,  Mr.  Churchill !  I 
have  the  carriage." 

"  Yes,  Lewis,  do  put  Miss  Wright  in  the  car 
riage.  But  you'd  better  both  stay  and  spend  the 
evening." 

Miss  Wright  was  inexorable,  though  promis 
ing  to  come  again  soon,  with  that  special  object 
in  view,  to  Mrs.  Parker's  warm  invitation,  wrhich 
was  urged  on  the  stairs,  even  on  the  very  door 
step. 

"  Shall  I  set  you  down,  Mr.  Churchill  ?  " 

"  Thank  you !  "  Yet  it  was  not  an  acceptance, 
for  he  had  handed  her  in,  and  still  stood  on  the 
pavement,  with  his  hand  on  the  door. 

"  I'm  going  directly  home." 

"Yes,  Lewis,  I  think  you'd  better!"  called 
Mrs.  Parker  from  the  steps.  "  It's  getting  quite 
damp,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  it  rained 
before  you  got  home,  if  you  walk." 

What  had  made  Lewis   Churchill  hesitate? 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  237 

Whatever  the  cause,  his  self-deliberation  ended 
in  calling  himself  a  very  unfriendly  name,  and  he 
took  the  opposite  seat. .  So  they  rolled  away  to 
gether,  quite  alone,  while  Mrs.  Parker  went  back 
to  the  house  to  superintend  Charley's  bread-and- 
milk,  congratulating  herself  on  the  success  of  the 
little  manoauvre,  which  had  thrown  the  lovers 
together,  and  of  which  she  took  the  entire  credit. 

Lewis  glanced  at  the  vacant  house  next  to 
Anne's  as  they  passed,  and  thought  what  a  pretty 
picture  the  sitting-room,  and  mother  and  child 
had  been,  his  heart  leaping  up  with  the  hope  that 
some  day  such  a  home  might  be  his  own,  when 
he  turned  to  see  the  fair  face  opposite  him  looking 
all  the  lovelier  for  the  glare  and  flash  of  the  street 
lights  which  revealed  it.  The  little  hand  nestled 
outside  the  muff,  so  temptingly  near  his,  and  there 
was  a  charm  in  the  complete  seclusion,  the  close 
neighborhood  of  the  moment. 

But  there  was  another  returning  home,  in  a 
far-off  solitary  street, — Margaret,  hurrying  on, 
thankful  that  the  day  was  over,  and  to  escape 
from  the  presence  of  one  who  had  cruelly  wronged 
her,  the  punishment  of  whose  sin  she  must  un 
justly  bear.  There  was  no  longer  a  tumult  of 


238  LOSS  AND  GAIN;   OK, 

feeling  to  control ;  she  was  like  one  who  has  given 
up  all  hope  of  averting  some  dreaded  crisis  or 
calamity,  and  waits  with  dull  quietude,  rather 
than  calm  patience,  for  the  issue.  Some  one  has 
said,  and  wisely :  "  It  is  not  in  the  tempest  that 
one  walks  the  beach  to  look  for  the  treasures  of 
wrecked  ships ;  but  when  the  storm  is  past,  we 
find  pearls  and  precious  stones  washed  ashore  !  " 
Margaret  thought  not  of  any  possible  future  gain ; 
she  heard  only  the  sobbing  of  the  storm  in  the 
distance,  and  felt  on  her  unsheltered  head  the 
drenching  and  driving  spray,  with  a  dreary  dread 
that  the  waves  would  return  again. 

She  found  a  comfortless  home ;  her  father  de 
spondent  at  some  fresh  rebuff  or  delay,  querulous 
and  unreasonable  as  a  child ;  and  Susie  suffering 
again  from  her  exposure  on  the  stairs  the  day 
before.  !No  wonder  that  she  stood  in  the  chill 
darkness  of  her  own  room,  tempted  to  give  up  all 
hope,  and  drift  outward  with  the  tide. 


MAEGABET'S  HOME.  239 


CHAPTEK    XVIII. 

WEDNESDAY,  the  day  before  Christmas,  had 
arrived,  and  there  was  no  more  time  for  delay  in 
making  the  purchases  that  were  to  pass  from 
-  friend  to  friend  as  tokens  of  good-will  that  even 
ing.  It  was  no  use  to  wait  for  the  weather  any 
longer ;  the  storm,  commencing  on  Monday  night, 
had  increased  in  violence  through  Tuesday,  and 
now  the  steady  down-pour  was  what  every  one 
might  have  expected,  but  did  not.  In  doleful 
contrast  to  the  gayety  of  the  night  before,  Miss 
Adelaide  Long  arrived  at  Churchill  &  Choate's 
with  trailing  muddy  garments,  and  a  hoarse  cold, 
to  which  her  daily  companions  attributed  her 
special  ill-humor. 

But  Margaret  alone  could  understand  the  con 
science  ill  at  ease,  the  restless  fear  of  discovery, 
which  appeared  in  her  fretful  manner  and  sarcas- 


240  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OE, 

tic  tones.  Her  own  heart  was  heavy  enough,  but 
she  thanked  God  that  it  had  not  the  barbed  arrow 
of  conscious  guilt.  She  had  begun  to  find  that 

"  The  sting  of  falsehood  loses  half  its  pain, 
If  our  hearts  bear  witness  we  are  true.' 

Still  it  was  hard,  in  the  momentary  pauses  of  that 
busy  day,  to  recollect  all  that  was  before  her. 
While  others  anticipated  the  gifts  of  the  evening 
and  the  holiday  to-morrow,  she  thought  only  of 
going  from  these  familiar  scenes  to  return  to  them 
no  more;  of  meeting  Mr.  Choate's  suspicious  look 
and  cold  acceptance  of  the  resignation  of  her  post ; 
of  going  away,  perhaps,  without  a  word  of  fare 
well  from  the  kind  friend  whose  approval  she 
courted,  to  brave  her  father's  disappointment,  his 
wife's  wrath,  and  Susie's  innocent  questionings 
when  she  told  them  what  she  had  done,  but  could 
give  no  reason  why.  What  was  to  become  of 
them,  or  herself,  she  could  not  see;  but  when 
these  misgivings  came,  she  met  the  tempter,  who 
would  still  hold  her  in  this  daily  bondage,  with  an 
old  saying  she  had  often  heard  from  her  mother's 
lips  :  "  Man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity." 
Fortunately,  there  was  little  leisure  in  the  day's 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  241 

incessant  whirl ;  as  Mrs.  Parker  had  said,  "  every 
body  one  knew  was  out."  It  was  amusing  enough, 
for  one  who  was  care  free,  to  watch  the  meetings 
and  greetings  of  friends  who  exchanged  shrugs 
and  "  horrors !  "  on  the  weather,  comments  on  the 
different  establishments  in  which  they  had  en 
countered  each  other  previously,  and  inquiries  as 
to  success  in  some  all-important  search. 

Every  one  was  "  tired  to  death,"  "  worried  out 
of  their  lives,"  and  "  ready  to  drop  ;  "  yet,  withal, 
they  seemed  to  be  in  excellent  spirits,  with  plenty 
of  money,  or  an  unlimited  carte-llanche  as  to 
bills.  They  greeted  each  other  with  "  Merry 
Christmas,"  as  if  the  day  had  already  come,  and 
disappeared  to  make  room  for  other  eager  shoppers, 
who  queried,  and  bargained,  and  abused  the 
weather  in  turn.  It  was  so  dark  by  four  in  the 
afternoon  that  the  gas  was  lighted,  and  still  the 
crowd  poured  in  and  out  without  diminution. 
Mr.  Choate,  too  busy  to  survey  the  throng — al 
though  he  had  two  special  assistants — listened 
with  inward  content  and  satisfaction  to  the  ring 
of  coin  and  the  shouts  of  "  cash."  It  was  a  music 
that  his  soul  delighted  in.  Miss  Choate,  whose 

department  included    table   and    piano-covers — 
11 


24:2  LOSS  ANI>  GAIN;  OB, 

favorite  holiday  gifts  among  practical  people — 
was  also  forced  to  attend  to  her  own  share  of  the 
business,  and  let  the  "  young  ladies  "  at  the  other 
counters  manage  their  affairs  alone.  Even  Mr. 
Churchill  seemed  to  share  in  the  general  excite 
ment,  walking  about  restlessly,  or  watching  the 
sky,  as  if  their  sales  really  depended  on  the 
weather,  which,  on  this  day  at  least,  could  not  in 
fluence  them  in  the  slightest. 

Evening  came — Christmas  Eve — with  all  its 
cheerful  associations ;  with  a  crowd  thronging 
Chestnut  Street,  not  to  be  disappointed  in  seeing 
Kriss  Krinkle  by  any  freaks  of  the  weather  ;  with 
startling  peals  from  door-bells,  and  mysterious 
packages,  with  and  without  the  donor's  love  or 
compliments ;  shouts  and  clapping  of  hands  from 
the  youngsters  as  folding-doors  flew  open  magi 
cally,  revealing  brilliantly-lighted  and  generously- 
laden  Christmas  trees — smiles  and  tears  to  those 
who  stood  'by,  and  watched  their  joy  while  they 
thought  of  their  own  childhood,  or  noted  the  miss 
ing  links  in  the  chain  of  household  love. 

Eight,  nine  o'clock,  and  yet  the  tired  feet  were 
not  released,  and  the  lights  shone  out  from 
Churchill  &  Choate's  over  the  wet,  slippery  pave- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  243 

ment.  A  long  and  dreary  Christmas  Eve  it  had 
been  to  Susie ;  disappointed  in  her  anticipation 
of  having  the  new  dress  finished,  and  wearing  it 
for  the  first  time  to  see  the  Christmas  decorations, 
and  hear  the  Christmas  anthems — for  Margaret  did 
not  come,  and  though  she  had  been  sitting  up 
much  of  the  day,  she  knew  she  was  not  strong 
enough  to  walk  so  far  as  the  church  on  the  mor 
row.  So  she  turned  to  her  usual  resource,  tired  of 
starting  up  and  listening  for  her  sister's  voice,  and 
imagined  all  sorts  of  impossible  presents  for  both 
of  them,  and  for  their  father.  She  was  even  gen 
erous  enough  to  present  Mrs.  Grant  with  a  fabu 
lous  silk  dress  magnificent  to  behold,  and  to  fill 
the  boys'  stockings,  and  shoes  too — those  imprac 
ticable  shoes,  that  were  always  missing  or  tied  in 
"  hard  knots  " — with  candies,  and  trumpets,  and 
tin  horses.  Nor  was  old  Kuth  forgotten.  Susie 
pictured  Ruth's  astonishment  when  she  herself 
should  walk  in  with  a  bird,  a  singing'  canary  in  a 
round  cage,  and  find  that  it  was  really  for  her  ; 
parforming  which  liberal  bestowment,  Susie  fell 
stsleep,  and  wandered  oif  on  still  more  fantastic 
journeys  into  cloud-land. 

There  was  a  time-honored  custom  at  Churchill 


2M  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

&  Choate's — established,  one  might  be  sure,  by 
the  original  founder  of  the  house,  and  not  by  any 
spasmodic  generosity  of  Mr.  Caleb's.  At  the  close 
of  the  day's  sales,  each  person  in  their  employ 
was  summoned  to  the  office  and  received  a  special 
gift,  ostensibly  in  return  for  the  week's  unusual 
exertions.  The  clerks  usually  had  the  satisfaction 
of  an  acceptable  addition  to  their  month's  salary ; 
the  young  ladies,  some  article  of  wearing  apparel, 
selected,  in  his  day,  by  the  senior  Mr.  Churchill 
himself,  and  sure  to  be  serviceable,  as  well  as  ex 
cellent  in  kind.  Of  late,  the  choice  had  devolved 
on  Miss  Choate,  whose  economical  propensities 
were  held  in  check  by  Mr.  Lewis,  who  overlooked 
the  distribution.  Nine  o'clock  was  the  signal  for 
this  cheerful  business  to  commence,  and  one  after 
another  was  called,  and  reappeared  with  smil 
ing  or  disappointed  faces,  as  the  case  might 
be. 

Margaret  dreaded,  yet  longed  for  the  sum 
mons,  the  signal  for  her  final  departure,  and  stood 
watching  the  inner  door,  with  nervous  starts  and . 
suddenly  failing  pulse,  whenever  she  imagined  th$ 
time  had  come.  She  echoed  the  merry  wishes 
and  glad  "  good-nights"  of  those  who  were  going 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  245 

and  thought  "  it  is  for  the  last  time."  The  lights 
were  dying  out  around  her  ;  the  great  cloth  hang 
ings  began  to  stretch  gloomily  from  floor  to  ceil 
ing;  still  her  name  had  not  been  called,  and 
while  she  wondered  and  waited,  and  saw  even  the 
cash  boys  go  in  before  her,  it  suddenly  came  into 
her  mind  that  the  omission  was  intentional,  a  part 
of  the  disapprobation  in  which  she  was  held,  and 
which  waited  only  definite  proof,  for  her  dismissal. 
Her  breath  came  quick  and  hard  at  the  thought, 
and  she  started  up,  yielding  to  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,  to  follow  and  detain  the  real  aggressor, 
who  had  just  passed  by  with  a  light  mocking 
laugh,  and  accuse  her  face  to  face.  But  a  voice 
seemed  ringing  in  her  ears,  "Avenge  not  your 
selves,"  and  she  turned,  nerved  by  very  hopeless 
ness  of  the  moment,  to  seal  her  own  dismissal. 

Miss  Choate  now  occupied  the  office-chair, 
before  which  Margaret  had  been  summoned  to  her 
brother's  judgment,  checking  the  list  of  names ; 
there  were  but  few  remaining  who  had  not  re 
ceived  their  Christmas  gift.  Margaret's  was  not 
there.  She  knew  it  when  she  appeared  before 
them,  and  saw  the  start  by  which  her  entrance 
was  greeted,  quite  as  well  as  when  Miss  Choate 


246  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

said,  uneasily,  looking  from  Mr.  Churchill  to  her. 
brother — 

"  I  don't  find  you  here  at  all,  Miss  Grant.  I 
don't  think  /  have  made  the  mistake ;  for  I  know 
I  called  the  '  GV  regularly,  and  Mr.  Churchill 
made  out  the  list  himself." 

Margaret  gave  him  no  time  for  reply.  "  I  did 
not  come  for  any  gift.  I  should  have  waited  to 
be  sent  for.  I  came  to  say  that  I  leave  my  situa 
tion  to-night,  to  be  disposed  of  as  you  think  best. 
That  is  all."  And  she  was  gone  before  Mr.  Caleb 
and  his  sister  had  recovered  from  their  astonish 
ment,  or  Mr.  Churchill,  who  would  have  detained 
her,  could  do  so.  He  followed  her  to  the  door, 
indeed,  the  next  moment,  with  hasty  step ;  but  the 
porters  were  in  the  store  busy  with  their  nightly 
arrangements,  and  she  had  passed  on  swiftly 
to  the  dressing-room,  where  were  voices  and 
laughter. 

Margaret  did  not  wait  for  any  more  farewells ; 
she  reached  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  went  out 
into  the  night,  followed  closely  by  Adelaide  Long 
and  her  lover.  They  had  waited  and  watched  for 
her — she  felt  that  and  the  mockery  of  their 
"  Merry  Christmas,  Miss  Grant,"  as  they  hurried 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  247 

by.  Then  all  feeling  was  absorbed  in  the  utter 
loneliness  of  her  position,  shrinking  with  a  wo 
man's  fear  from  the  noisy  groups  of  revellers,  un 
sheltered  from  the  drenching,  driving  storm. 
"Always  unsheltered,  always  uncared  for,"  she 
thought ;  "  it  has  been  so  all  my  life,  from  the 
time  I  can  remember  ;  always  working  for  others, 
always  sacrificed  to  others.  Must  I  go  on  so! 
Oh,  it  is  very  hard !  very  bitter !  All  Thy 
waves  and  billows  have  gone  over  me !  "  It  was 
a  despairing  but  not  a  rebellious  cry,  and  the 
"  Even  so,  if  it  seemeth  good  in  Thy  sight,"  rose 
up  with  true  if  not  cheerful  acquiescence. 

There  were  hasty  steps  behind  her,  and  she 
quickened  her  own  pace.  It  was  later  than  she 
had  ever  been  abroad  before,  and  the  streets  were 
full  of  lawless  men,  bent  on  a  night  of  riot  and 
excess. 

"Margaret!" 

Still  she  hurried  on,  thinking  her  own  imagi 
nation  mocked  her. 

"  Margaret !  One  moment !  "Will  you  not 
let  me  take  care  of  you  ?  It  is  no  night  for  you 
to  be  out  alone !  " 

She  faltered  then,  with  a  sudden  trembling 


248  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

that  made  her  heart  stand  still.  It  was  not  the 
cold,  or  the  drenching  shower  ;  but  that  she  should 
be  remembered,  cared  for  by  him.  She  knew  the 
earnest  voice — whose  arm  had  thrown  a  heavy 
plaid  around  her — as  well  as  when  she  turned  to 
find  Lewis  Churchill. 

"  You  are  drenched,  and  shivering  with  cold," 
he  said ;  "  you  must  not  expose  yourself  in  this 
way.  Trust  me,  Margaret,  as  if  I  were  your — 
brother.  Will  you  not  ? " 

Trust  him  ?  Yes ;  she  had  always  trusted 
him ;  and  now  she  stood  in  beggarly  need  of  some 
other  human  strength  and  comfort.  A  strange 
content  stole  over  her,  and  calmed  her,  as  she 
stood  leaning  on  his  arm — he  bending  down  to 
shelter  her,  until  the  carriage  that  he  had  signalled 
from  the  stand  approached,  and  then  she  was 
lifted  in,  and  he  sprang  to  the  seat  beside  her. 
She  did  not  make  a  motion  of  dissent,  or  even 
wonder  how  he  knew  it,  when  she  heard  him  tell 
the  driver  the  name  of  the  court  in  which  she 
lived,  but  leaned  back,  not  even  caring  to  have 
the  blessed  silence  broken. 

"  So,  Margaret,  you  have  given  us  up  to 
night,"  he  said,  as  they  rolled  away  from  the 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  249 

glare  of  the  noisy  thoroughfare.  "I  will  not 
ask  you  why;  I  know  you  never  act  without 
good  reason.  But  what  if  I  will  not  let  you  go  ? 
What  if  I  hold  you  here  by  me  always  ? " — and 
the  hand  that  had  sought  her  own  grasped  it 
firmly. 

She  did  not  reproach  him  with  wronging  an 
other  by  such  words ;  she  trusted  him,  by  all  she 
knew  of  his  life,  that  he  meant  what  he  was  say 
ing,  honorably  and  truly,  though  she  could  not 
comprehend  it,  and  sat  silent  as  before. 

"  Will  you  go  now,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  love 
you  as  if  you  were  already  rny  own  wife  ?  Will 
you  be  my  wife,  Margaret  ? " 

"  His  wife !  "  How  the  words  rang  in  upon 
the  stupor  that  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  her. 
"  His  wife !  "  She  had  never  said  that,  even  to 
herself,  before ;  she  had  only  thought,  but  never 
as  now,  how  she  could  have  loved  him ! 

"  Margaret !  You  will  at  least  tell  me  whether 
I  have  offended  you  ? " — and  he  waited  until  she 
said — 

"  Oh  no,  no !  " 

"  I  have  no  reason  to  think  that  you  would  make 
me  such  a  precious  Christmas  gift  as  the  right  to 
11* 


250  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

love  and  cherish  you.  But  if  you  knew  how  hard 
it  has  been  to  see  you  braving  fatigue  and  ex 
posure  day  after  day  !  how  many  ways  I  have 
planned  of  approaching  you  less  rashly !  how  I 
dreaded  to  speak  lest  I  should  have  deceived  my 
self  in  thinking  that  you  would  learn  to  love  me ! 
You  cannot  now — you  do  not  even  know  me  as  I 
am,  though  you  have  seen  me  daily  for  three 
years." 

*  "  But  you  do   not  know  what  you  ask  for. 
You  do  not  know  me  !  " 

"  I  ?  I  do,  Margaret,  better  than  you  think. 
I  knew  you  first  in  your  gentle,  dignified  woman 
hood,  with  such  a  face  as  always  calmed  me — 
even  in  pictures  when  I  have  found  it ;  and  then 
I  watched  you  to  see  if  I  were  deceived  in  think 
ing  it  was  the  impress  of  the  inner  life,  of  its  pu 
rity,  energy,  and  loving-heartedness,  that  I  saw. 
Forgive  me  that  I  began  the  study  coldly,  when 
it  ended  in  loving  what  I  found  !  " 

"  Do  you  love  me  ?  "  she  said,  dreamily — as  if 
she  stayed  her  feet  on  the  brink  of  a  stream  she 
dared  not  essay  to  cross. 

"Yes,  love  you;  could  any  one  know  how 
you  have  borne  your  lot  in  life,  and  not  love  you, 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  251 

my  patient  Margaret!  How  you  have  held  to 
;  all  things  beautiful,  and  pure,  and  of  good  re 
port,'  in  the  midst  of  ungenial  influences — what  a 
daughter  you  have  been — what  a  mother  to  your 
little  sister!  You  must  let  me  share  the  task 
work  now  ;  will  you  not  ?  Will  you  try  to  love 
me,  and  give  me  time  to  prove  that  this  is  no 
sudden,  passing  fancy  ? " 

The  unnatural  quiet  passed  away  with  a  long, 
grieving  sigh,  and,  as  she  felt  herself  drawn  to 
wards  him,  Margaret  laid  her  head  on  the  heart 
that  pleaded  "  for  love's  sake."  "  Oh,  I  am  so 
tii'ed  of  battling  on  alone — so  happy  !  " — and  she 
lay  quite  still  for  a  moment,  as  a  weary  child 
would  rest  in  the  shelter  of  loving  arms.  Then  the 
thoughts  of  Susie's  helplessness,  and  her  father's 
lonely,  companionless  life,  came  with  their  for 
bidding  influence.  And  Mr.  Churchill's  family  ! 
she  could  not  mar  their  unbroken  happiness  by  such 
an  unwelcome  intrusion.  It  was  a  dream,  bright 
as  brief;  but  she  must  rouse  herself  from  it,  and 
do  as  she  had  even  done  before,  go  on  her  way 
alone,  not  wholly  cast  down,  since  he  might  have 
loved  her. 


252  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

"  Why  do  you  start  away  ?  — will  you  not  rest 
here,  Margaret  ? — do  you  not  trust  ine  yet  ? " 

"  But  you  do  not  know  " — and  an  unworthy 
flush  rose  to  her  face,  as  she  remembered  the 
obscure  street  they  were  so  rapidly  approaching- 
"  We  are  not  like  those  you  have  always  known  ; 
we  are  very  poor  and  plain,  and  you  must  not  let 
pity  blind  you  to  the  reality,  or  make  you  blush  in 
your  own  home  when  you  think  of  mine." 

"  I  understand  all  you  mean  to  say." 

"  But  wait  till  you  see — that  is  different." 

"And  if  then  I  say,  come?  I  humor  your 
faithless  scruples,  you  see.  Will  you  come  ? — to 
my  home  ?  — our  home  ?  " 

"  We  are  almost  there  "  — and  Margaret  lean 
ed  towards  the  window  to  escape  the  pleading  of 
her  own  heart,  suing  for  him  with  stronger  pleas 
than  any  he  could  utter.  "Look  out  and  see! 
Could  you  hear  it  said  that  you  had  stooped  to 
this  ? — could  your  family  know  it,  and  not  re 
proach  me  ? " 

He  looked  out  at  her  bidding.  She  was  right ; 
he  had  not  realized  that  she  had  lived  surrounded 
by  such  scenes  from  her  childhood — the  low  drink 
ing  shops — the  noisy  brawlers  upon  the  side-walk 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  253 

— the  poor,  squalid  houses — the  shouting,  and  sing 
ing,  and  quarrelling  that  came  from  within — the 
miserable  air  of  poverty  and  decay  on  every  thing ; 
yet  it  only  made  him  long  more  earnestly  to  carry 
her  away  from  all  such  wretched  associations,  and 
make  her  future  life  so  bright  and  happy  that  she 
would  come  to  forget  that  she  had  ever  known 
them. 

"  My  poor  Margaret  ?  "  And  he  turned  away 
to  clasp  her  more  closely  still. 

She  could  not  deny  herself  the  transient  shel 
ter,  for  all  that  she  repeated  over  to  herself,  again 
and  again,  "  It  must  not  be."  How  swiftly  the 
still  moments  flew  by  !  The  carriage  turned  into 
the  narrow  court,  halted,  and  the  farewell  had 
come. 

"  I  must  see  your  father  in  the  morning.  Tes, 
Margaret,  I  shall  ;  and  walk  with  you  to  church. 
It  must  be  as  I  say,  now.  God  bless  you  !  " 
And  he  was  gone  before  Mrs.  Grant,  startled  by 
the  unusual  sound  of  wheels,  had  reached  the 
door,  and  unbolted  it. 

"  La,  it's  only  you,  is  it  ?  I  thought  I  heard 
a  cab,  or  something.  I  suppose  I  must  sit  up 


254:  LOSS  AND   GAIN  J   OE, 

till  midnight  for   everybody.    No  signs  of  your 
father  yet." 

It  was  an  ungracious  and  fretful  greeting  ; 
but  the  echo  of  that  "  God  bless  you "  charmed 
away  the  discord,  and  in  her  own  room  she  could 
try  to  make  the  last  hour  real.  Susie's  pale, 
sleeping  face  reminded  her  of  the  unfinished  task, 
not  task  but  pleasure,  for  sleep  was  impossible 
— and  as  her  needle  flew,  happy  thought,  strange 
questioning,  and  bright  anticipations  that  would 
not  be  driven  back,  floated  and  mingled  in  her 
mind,  marked  by  the  smiles  and  blushes,  and 
grave  earnest  looks  that  passed  over  the  face  bent 
downward  to  her  work. 


MAEGABET'S  HOME.  255 


CHAPTEK  XIX. 

MB.  GKANT  had  gone  out  early  in  the  evening 
upon  his  daily  quest,  news  from  the  Patent  Office. 
Morning  and  night  he  made  his  appearance  at 
Mr.  Dunlap's  counting-room,  insensible  to  the 
quizzing  of  the  clerks,  and  the  half-suppressed 
impatience  of  their  principal  at  his  importunity. 
It  was  closed  when  he  reached  it  ?  the  heavy  shut 
ters  were  tmrred,  and  the  door  securely  fastened 
for  the  night.  He  tried* the  lock,  but  it  did  not 
yield. 

It  was  a  greater  disappointment  than  it  would 
have  been  at  any  other  time  ;  all  that  day  he  had 
had  a  fancy,  almost  a  presentiment,  that  the  after 
noon  mail  would  bring  him  the  wished-for  intelli 
gence.  It  was  founded,  doubtless,  on  Mr.  Dunlap's 
opinion  that  this  was  the  earliest  moment  they 
could  reasonably  expect  to  hear,  and  his  own  crav 
ing  wishes.  Be  that  as  it  may,  all  chance  of  know- 


256  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

ing  the  truth  was  cut  off  for  two  days  at  least,  for 
there  would  be  no  business  transacted  on  the 
morrow.  If  there  had  been  but  one  night  to 
pass  in  uncertainty,  Mr.  Grant  would  have  gone 
gloomily  home  again,  sunk  in  one  of  his  most  de 
spondent  moods,  the  natural  alternation  of  the  ex 
citement  in  which  he  lived.  Two  nights  !  all  Christ 
mas  day ;  it  was  impossible.  He  turned  towards  the 
business  part  of  the  city,  walking  slowly  with  un 
settled  purpose ;  but  a  sudden  thought  quickened 
his  pace,  and  altered  the  course  he  had  taken. 

Naturally  shrinking  and  timid,  nothing  less 
than  the  restlessness  of  the  moment  could  have 
decided  him  to  seek  Mr.  Dunlap  at  his  own  house. 
He  knew  where  it  was,  for  he  had  often  directed 
his  numberless  appeals  to  it — far  out  in  the  west 
ern  part  of  the  city,  on  one  of  the  new  squares  that 
were  already  springing  up  magically  in  the  region 
known  as  "  beyond  Broad."  He  passed  through 
thronged  streets,  and  squares  of  luxurious  houses, 
but  he  saw  nothing  of  the  gayety  which  shone  out 
everywhere.  His  whole  soul  was  wrapped  up  in 
his  own  quest :  nor  did  it  seem  unreasonable  or 
importunate  until  he  had  reached  the  house  :  then 
he  paused  before  the  high  marble  steps,  and  saw 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  257 

the  light  pouring  out  of  the  vestibule  door,  through 
the  rich  lace  curtains  at  the  drawing-room  win 
dows,  and  heard  the  sound  of  music  and  merriment 
within.  They,  in  their  household  joy,  little  knew 
how  the  footsteps  of  an  old  gray-haired  man,  pre 
maturely  old  with  the  strivings  and  disappointments 
of  years,  faltered  at  the  threshold,  and  paced  the 
flagging  back  and  forth,  while  the  storm  beat  down 
on  his  unsheltered  head.  But  this  he  did  not  feel : 
he  was  only  trying  to  quell  the  impulse  which 
had  led  him  there,  but  it  conquered  even  his  shrink 
ing,  sensitive  nature,  and  he  ascended  the  steps  at 
last.  The  back  drawing-room  of  the  prosperous 
merchant's  house  was  a  goodly  scene  that  even 
ing.  It  was  only  a  family  party,  as  befitted  Christ 
mas  Eve :  but  children  and  grand-children  were 
gathered  there,  and  there  was  the  glad  antici 
pation  of  more  welcomes  when  the  New  York 
train  arrived.  The  grand  distribution  of  gifts  had 
already  been  made,  and  sofa,  chairs,  and  the  piano 
were  in  a  chaos  of  toys,  bonbons,  and  more  cumber 
some  tokens  for  the  elders.  At  the  round  table, 
under  the  central  light,  sat  Mrs.  Dunlap  herself, 
a  comely,  dignified  lady,  whose  brown  eyes  were 
full  of  quiet  joyfulness  as  she  looked  around  and 


258  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

saw  all  there — not  one  blank  had  the  year  made 
in  their  great  happiness. 

But  "  grandmamma  "  was  not  suffered  to  have 
a  quiet  enjoyment:  incessant  demands  were  made 
upon  her  for  admiration  of  work-boxes,  books,  toys, 
and  ornaments,  by  the  children,  and  by  their  proud 
fathers  and  mothers  for  rapturous  commendations 
of  the  juveniles  themselves.  "  Grandpapa  "  had 
forgotten  his  invoices  and  cargoes,  and  for  this 
night  was  "  a  boy  again,"  sounding  famous  blasts 
on  hunting-horns,  and  squeaking  dolls  to  the  hearts' 
delight  of  their  fortunate  possessors. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  merriment,  the  door 
bell  sounded,  startling  all  to  an  instant's  silence. 

"  It's  the  boys !  "  cried  Mrs.  Dunlap  ;  for  her 
sons  were  boys  to  her  still,  for  all  their  bearded  faces. 

But  no,  the  mantel-clock  checked  that  hope ;  it 
pointed  only  eight. 

"  Some  more  presents !  hurrah  !  "  shouted  the 
children,  who  had  already  made  divers  journeys 
to  the  hall  for  the  welcome  packages  that  had 
presented  themselves. 

It  was  in  vain  to  call  "  Come  back,  Joe — wait, 
Alice — here,  Clara  :  " — the  whole  merry  little 
troop  poured  out,  to  find,  to  their  great  disappoint- 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  259 

ment,  "  only  a  little  old  man,  who  wants  to  see 
grandpapa." 

"  On  business,  he  says,  sir — only  a  moment," 
reported  the  waiter,  who  by  this  time  had  made 
a  hearing  for  himself. 

Mr.  Dunlap's  unusual  hilarity  changed  into  a 
frown.  "  Tell  him  I'm  engaged  ;  I  think  I  may 
have  one  night  in  the  year  to  give  to  my  family  un 
molested. 

"  Did  he  say  what  it  was  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Dnnlap, 
with  kindly  voice,  as  the  servant  hesitated  a  mo 
ment,  not  liking  to  convey  such  a  discouraging  mes 
sage  to  the  drenched,  weary -looking  man  without. 
"  Ask  him  what  he  wants  ;  it  may  be  some  one 
who  needs  help,"  she  added,  as  she  saw  her  hus 
band's  movement  of  dissent ;  "  and  I  could  not 
enjoy  my  own  happy  home  if  we  turned  any  one 
in  need  away  to-night,  and  such  a  night." 

"  His  name  is  Grant,"  said  the  waiter,  reap 
pearing,  "  and  he  said  you  would  know." 

"  Bother !  "  and  Mr.  Dunlap  started  up  with 
a  look  and  tone  of  still  greater  annoyance.  "  That 
man  is  the  p]  ague  of  my  life.  No,  I  won't  see  him !  " 

"  My  dear,  you  don't  know — hadn't  you  better 
see  ?  Is  it  the  Mr.  Grant  who  has  been  so  per- 


260  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

severing  about  the  patent  ?  Oh,  do  see  him.  I 
always  feel  so  sorry  for  him." 

"  He  looks  so  tired,  grandpa  ;  sha'n't  I  tell  him 
to  come  in  ?  "  said  Joe,  the  namesake  and  pet  of 
his  grandfather,  boldly. 

Mr.  Dunlap's  heart  smote  him,  but  he  did  not 
give  up  his  vexation,  nevertheless.  It  was  the 
very  sympathy  he  felt  for  Mr.  Grant,  and  his  re 
peated  disappointments,  which  made  him  resent 
the  intrusion. 

"  Well,  show  him  into  the  library ;  I'll  be  there 
in  a  moment.  Mother,  where  are  my  letters  ?  I 
did  not  mean  to  break  a  seal  to-night ;  I  have  not 
even  looked  at  a  post-mark,  for  fear  of  some  news 
that  would  upset  me." 

How  magically  warm  and  glittering  those 
rooms  looked  to  the  lonely  man  as  he  drew  near 
the  library  grate,  feeling,  for  the  first  time,  that 
he  was  drenched  to  the  skin !  One  glass  door 
stood  ajar,  and  through  it  he  saw  the  brilliant 
chandeliers,  chiming  faintly  with  all  their  rainbow 
prisms,  the  shining  of  mirrors  and  pictures  on  the 
wall,  the  warmth  of  damask  draperies  and  velvet 
carpets,  the  bright  faces  of  the  children,  the  happy 
glances  of  their  elders ;  and  then  came  into  his 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  261 

mind,  strangely  enough  at  that  moment,  when  he 
was  all  eagerness  for  his  errand,  thoughts  of  Mar 
garet,  stately  and  graceful  as  any  of  those  beautiful 
women,  defrauded  by  him  of  hardly-earned  com 
forts,  and  Susie,  his  motherless  darling,  who  had 
never  known  a  child's  light-hearted  happiness. 
He  did  not  mind  Mr.  Dunlap's  somewhat  ungra 
cious  greeting,  but  stood  with  keen  expectancy 
shining  out  of  those  strangely  lighted  eyes,  and 
speaking  in  every  line  of  his  worn,  sallow  face, 
while  the  post-marks  were  examined  one  by  one. 

"  Ha  !  " — and  Mr.  Dunlap's  face  lighted  up 
from  its  unsympathizing  coldness,  as  he  found, 
beneath  some  magazines  and  papers,  a  large  en 
velope,  with  its  well-known  official  seal.  "I 
believe  we  have  it,  after  all ;  bad  news  is  better 
than  none,  hey  ?  " — and  he  began  to  read. 

The  face  of  the  watcher  worked  convulsively ; 
the  suspense  seemed  stifling  him,  and  he  passed 
his  hand  through  his  neckcloth  to  loosen  it. 

"  True  as — no — stop  !  Yes — '  as  herein  speci 
fied  ' — done  at  last !  I  congratulate  you,  Mr. 
Grant ;  you've  carried  the  day  !  " 

"  Oh  no,  sir  !  not  granted  ? "  ' 

"  Yes,  sir  !  "  and  Mr.  Dunlap  gave  the  docu- 


262  LOSS  AND  GAIN;   OK, 

ments  an  emphatic  thump.     It  would  have  been 

a  relief  to  him  to  say  "  By "  something,  but 

Mr.  Dunlap  never  gave  way  to  profane  impulses, 
however  much  old  habits  might  tempt.  He  got 
up  from  his  desk  though,  and  shook  Mr.  Grant's 
hand  as  heartily  as  if  he  had  been  his  brother. 

"  Now  it's  come,  let  me  give  you  a  piece  of 
advice.  It  isn't  going  to  turn  out  an  everlasting 
fortune,  you  know,  though  it's  something.  Part 
of  the  improvement  has  been  anticipated.  Adams 
is  the  man  to  carry  it,  and  he's  made  me  the  offer 
of  $10,000  clear  for  my  third,  if  it  come  to  any 
thing.  I'd  advise  you  to  make  the  same  terms  ; 
he's  a  practical  man,  and  he  can  make  a  better 
use  of  it  than  you  or  I  could." 

But  Mr.  Grant  had  not  followed  him  through 
the  proposition.  Mr.  Dunlap  could  not  under 
stand  the  inventor's  triumph  at  a  success  not 
only  achieved  but  acknowledged,  or  the  relief 
from  absolute  want  to  comparative  wealth ;  neither 
emotion  could  be  fully  shared  but  by  Margaret, 
his  own  much-enduring,  helpful,  hopeful  Mar 
garet. 

11  "  Thank  you ;  I  must  go.  Oh,  I  thank  you 
again  for  seeing  me  to-night.  Tell  them  why  I 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  263 

ventured  to  call  you  away ; "  and  he  waved  his 
hand  towards  the  parlor.  "  But  are  you  sure, 
sir  ?  Oh,  a  mistake  would  kill  me  now  !  " 

"  Sure — sure  as  a  gun !  "  said  Mr.  Dunlap, 
with  more  warmth  than  elegance  ;  his  natural 
satisfaction  at  the  result  being  heightened  by  an 
imaginary  feeling  of  self-sacrifice  connected  with 
it.  "  You  must  have  a  glass  of  wine,  Mr.  Grant. 
Here's  to  the  patent,  and  I  wish  you  a  merry 
Christmas !  " 

He  stopped  to  take  it,  only  because  he  did  not 
feel  as  if  he  could  reach  home  without  it,  and  not 
a  moment  longer.  Mr.  Dunlap  closed  the  door 
upon  him,  and  went  back  in  smiling  contrast  to 
his  forced  exit. 

"  "Well,  mother,  the  patent's  granted.  The 
documents  happened  to  be  there,  as  I  should  have 
seen  if  I  had  brought  up  the  letters  myself." 

"  Really  !  I  must  go  and  shake  hands  with 
him ;  oh,  I  am  delighted  ! "  and  Mrs.  Dunlap's 
benevolent  countenance  did  not  belie  her  heart. 

"  Oh,  he's  gone! — off  like  a  shot! — he  would 
hardly  wait  to  take  a  glass  of  wine,  though  he 
trembled  from  head  to  foot."  Mr.  Dunlap  rubbed 
his  hands  in  a  glow  of  self-satisfaction. 


264:  LOSS   AND   GAIN;    OK, 

"  Grandpa !  " — it  was  little  Joe,  who  stood  and 
played  with  the  great  seals  of  Mr.  Dunlap's  watch- 
chain — "ain't  you  glad  now  that  you  minded 
grandma  and  me,  and  went  to  seethe  poor  old 
man  ? " 

Margaret  stood  up  and  shook  out  the  new  dress, 
Susie's  one  Christmas  present.  It  was  quite  done, 
even  the  little  bit  of  lace  tacked  around  the  neck, 
and  the  sister's  eyes  already  saw  her  little  one 
arrayed  in  it ;  but,  as  she  stood  brushing  off  the 
bits  of  clippings  and  thread,  she  heard  voices,  and 
her  own  name  called  from  below.  She  did  not 
distinguish  her  father's ;  but,  ever  watchful  for 
him,  and  suddenly  remembering  his  unwonted 
absence,  flew  down  the  stairs,  impelled  by  a 
nameless  terror  of  accident  or  mischance.  Mrs. 
Grant's  eyes,  heavy  with  sleep,  were  distended  by 
some  startling  intelligence  she  seemed  as  yet 
scarcely  to  understand,  and  her  husband  tottered 
towards  Margaret  with  outstretched  arms. 

"  Oh,  Margaret  !  it's  mine  at  last — the  patent  " 
— and  he  burst  into  tears,  sobbing  like  a  child. 

Margaret  soothed  him  as  she  would  have  com- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  265 

forted  Susie,  while  he  clung  to  her  as  helplessly  ; 
smoothing  his  silvery  hair,  whitened  so  rapidly  of 
late,  but  asking  nothing.  "  Poor  father  !  dear 
father !  " 

,"  I  don't  care  for  any  thing,  now  it  has  come, 
but  you,  Margaret.  I've  been  so  cruel  and  hard 
hearted  to  you  and  Susie ;  but  you  shall  have  it 
all  back  again.  Oh,  Margaret ! " 

It  was  no  time  to  tell  him  of  her  own  strange 
repayment ;  and  it  was  long  before  she  could  win 
him  to  try  and  sleep ;  but  when  he  did  so,  heavily, 
for  he  was  exhausted  in  mind  and  body,  she  stole 
back  to  Susie's  bedside,  and  knelt,  until  the  mid 
night  chimes  rang  out  their  Christmas  greeting, 
with  a  heart  too  full  even  for  audible  thanksgiving. 

12 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

IT  was  very  hard  for  Mrs.  Grant,  just  come  into 
a  marvellous  fortune — ten  thousand  dollars  being 
an  exhaustless  sum  in  her  eyes — to  be  obliged  to  get 
up  and  dress  her  own  children,  by  a  kitchen  fire, 
too  !  However,  it  would  only  be  for  a  very  little 
while  :  their  quarter  would  be  up  on  New- Year's 
day,  and  it  should  not  find  her  in  Shippen  Court, 
she  had  already  determined,  nor  without  "  a  girl." 
Having  a  maid  of  all  work  was  the  first  step  Mrs. 
Grant  contemplated  towards  gentility. 

It  was  impossible  to  sleep  with  such  plans  in 
prospect,  and  to  the  general  good  of  the  house 
hold,  and  much  to  Margaret's  comfort,  the  break 
fast-table  was  cleared  at  an  hour  hitherto  un 
precedented  in  the  annals  of  Mrs.  Grant's  house 
keeping.  Margaret  set  aside  the  last  dish,  with  a 
glance  at  the  clock.  How  many  times  she  had  con- 


MAEGAKET'S  HOME.  267 

suited  it  already,  it  is  needless  to  say.  She  watched 
for  an  opportunity  to  prepare  her  father  for  the 
morning's  interview;  but  he  was  making  an 
unusually  prolonged  toilet  in  his  own  room.  All  his 
lost  self-respect  seemed  suddenly  restored  to  him ; 
he  brushed  his  best  suit  of  clothes  carefully,  'and 
smoothed  his  well-worn  hat,  in  honor  of  the  day. 
The  night  before  had  been  bright  and  hopeful. 
Her  father's  good  fortune  removed  the  chief  ob 
stacle  in  Margaret's  way,  and  seemed  to  her  excit 
ed  imagination  a  token  for  good  in  all  that  had 
befallen  her.  To-day  new  and  less  worthy  dif 
ficulties  presented  themselves.  Allowing  that  Mr. 
Churchill  loved  her  sufficiently  to  overlook  her 
present  position,  what  could  his  family  say  when 
they  came  to  see  her  in  the  little  narrow  room,  so 
seldom  used,  or  indeed  opened,  which  was  all  she 
had  to  receive  them  in  ?  She  went  in  and  unclosed 
the  blind,  looking  around  her  with  dismay.  The 
faded,  threadbare  carpet,  the  slender  flag-seated 
chairs,  the  bare  table  between  the  windows,  the 
pair  of  empty  glass  lamps  upon  the  mantel,  were 
its  sole  furniture  and  adornment.  All  was  cold, 
cheerless,  and  homely  in  the  extreme ;  and  while 
she  dusted  the  furniture  carefully,  and  turned  the 


268  LOSS  AJTD  GAIN;  OK, 

chairs  about  to  try  and  make  them  a  little  less 
stiff  and  formal,  she  started  at  every  footstep  on 
the  pavement  ontside,  lest  Mr.  Churchill  should 
be  early  at  his  tryst,  and  surprise  her  in  a  morn 
ing-dress.  It  was  the  same  that  he  was  accustomed 
to  see  her  in,  however.  Her  hair  was  smoothly 
parted,  and  put  up  in  the  heavy  coils  that  gave 
very  little  idea  of  its  luxuriance  ;  her  collar  pinned 
with  the  same  exactness.  Margaret  could  not  have 
appeared  out  of  her  own  room  attired  with  less 
scrupulous  neatness. 

Her  father  was  in  the  little  working-room 
when  she  went  up  stairs  again,  and  as  she  opened 
the  door  softly,  saying,  "  May  I  come  in  ?  "  he 
started,  and  set  down  his  first  rough  model  of  the 
machinery  he  had  lived  to  bring  to  perfection. 
He  was  thinking  of  her  mother,  as  she  appeared 
before  him,  with  a  look  so  like  that  the  dead  had 
worn,  that  she  seemed  to  stand  in  her  place. 

"  You  must  be  very  happy,  father ;  what  a 
merry  Christmas  it  is  !  "  she  said,  as  she  came  and 
stood  beside  him. 

He  shook  his  head  slowly.  "  No,  not  merry, 
it's  too  late  for  that ;  but  not  too  late  to  make 
you  and  Susie  happy.  If  it  hadn't  been  for  you, 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  269 

J  should  have  given  up  in  despair  long  ago.  You 
will  try  to  be  happy,  won't  you,  Margaret  ?  " 

"  I  am  happy,  happier  than  you  know  for, 
father  ;  I  came  to  tell  you." 

He  listened,  at  first  with  a  strange,  vacant 
expression,  to  what  she  had  to  say  ;  but  when  he 
came  to  realize  that  some  one  beside  himself  knew 
and  loved  what  he  loved  in  her,  and  wished  to 
take  her  away  from  him,  an  inexpressible  pang 
shot  through  his  heart ;  but  he  would  not  be 
unjust,  as  heretofore  ;  no,  she  should  not  even  see 
how  it  had  shaken  him. 

She  was  busy  with  her  own  thoughts,  too,  and 
it  helped  him  to  pass  the  ordeal. 

"  It's  no  more  than  you  deserve ;  it's  just  what 
you  deserve  ;  tell  him  I  said  so." 

"  But  you  will  see  him,  father,  will  you  not  ? 
won't  you  go  to  church  with  me  to-day,  and  help 
me  thank  God  for  all  his  goodness  ?  So  much,  all 
at  once  !  It  is  so  strange  that  I  cannot  be  thankful ! 
not  half  as  thankful  as  I  ought  to  be." 

"  Kot  to-day,  Margaret  ;  some  other  time — 
next  Sunday,  perhaps.  I  must  have  some  new 
clothes  first ;  I  must  not  disgrace  you." 

"  You  must  not  say  that  again ;  you  know  I  am 


270  LOSS  AXD   GAIN;    OK, 

proud  of  you ;  prouder  than  ever,  now."  And 
Margaret's  eyes  kindled  as  she  drew  herself  up  at 
the  thought. 

"  You  are  not  ready  for  church  yourself," 
said  Mr.  Grant,  with  unusual  observation  for  him  ; 
but  even  her  presence  oppressed  him  at  that  mo 
ment.  He  wanted  to  be  quite  alone. 

So  Margaret  went  back  to  Susie,  who,  wrapped 
in  a  little  chintz  dressing-gown,  with  a  blanket 
about  her,  was  going  to  try  and  be  very  patient 
all  the  morning,  and  lie  still  on  the  bed,  in  the 
expectation  of  having  on  the  new  dress  when 
Margaret  returned,  and  dining  down  stairs  on 
chicken,  and  rice-pudding  with  plums  in  it — 
dainties  to  which  Susie  had  long  been  a  stranger. 

"  But  where  did  the  chickens  come  from  ? " 
queried  Susie,  as  Margaret  arrayed  herself  in  her 
best  dress — a  plain   colored  mousseline — one  of 
those  neutral  tints  which  painters  love  for  their 
Madonnas. 

"  Suppose  I  sent  for  them  myself  this  morning, 
expressly  to  give  you  a  treat  ? " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  did  ;  nobody  else  would 
have  thought  about  it,  or  has  got  so  much  money." 

"  Yes,  indeed  !    there  you're  mistaken.    Now 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  271 

I'm  going  to  tell  you  a  grand  Christmas  secret,  the 
reason  father  kissed  you  so,  when  he  saw  you  this 
morning,  only  I  didn't  want  you  to  know  it  then, 
because  I  was  afraid  of  one  of  your  bad  head 
aches." 

"Oh,  it's  all  gone  now  ;  do  tell  me  !  " 
"  Truly  ?    Well,  then,  father  is  going  to  have  a 
great  deal  of  money  for  his  patent,  and   mother 
says  we  shall  move  into  a  better  house." 

"  Is  that  all? "  Susie's  look  of  expectancy  fell. 
"  All  ?    You  unreasonable  little  thing  !  " 
"  Oh,  I  thought  you  were  going  to  say  that  you 
and  I  were  going  off  to  live  by  ourselves.   You've 
got  your  collar  wrong  side  out,  Margaret." 

It  was  quite  true  ;  and  Margaret  laughed  at 
herself,  as  she  unclasped  the  little  oval  hair 
brooch,  worn  only  on  high-days,  and  remedied 
her  carelessness.  Her  holiday  apparel  admitted 
no  other  finery ;  but  it  was  sufficient,  in  its  neatness 
and  simplicity,  for  any  time  and  place  that  she 
was  likely  to  encounter.  She  had  found  her  bon 
net  of  three  winters  past  all  repair ;  but  her 
summer's  straw,  still  white,  and  retrimmed  with 
a  simple  ribbon  of  dark  plaid,  did  not  look  out  of 
season. 


272  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

"  It  was  nice  to  have  the  rain  stop  to-da^,"  said 
Susie,  seeing  her  sister  glance  towards  the  window  ; 
"  I  think  it's  all  going  to  clear  off,  too." 

"  Yes,  there  comes  the  sun  now  ! "  and  a  bright 
clear  ray  shone  into  the  sombre  little  room.  "  In 
token  of  the  full  tide  of  sunshine  to  come," 
thought  Margaret,  as  she  stooped  to  take  a  shawl 
from  one-  of  the  deepest  drawers  of  the  old-fashion 
ed  bureau.  It  was  a  drawer  in  which  were  kept 
the  relics  of  her  own  mother's  wardrobe.  This 
shawl  she  had  worn  many  a  day — a  white  merino, 
with  deep  woven  border,  delicate  and  ladylike, 
though  its  fashion  had  passed  away ;  and  when 
Margaret  threw  it  about  her  in  natural  graceful 
folds,  Lewis  Churchill  had  no  need  to  be  asham 
ed  of  the  bride  he  had  chosen. 

Still  he  did  not  come.  It  was  quite  time  that 
she  should  set  out.  She  had  loitered  and  delayed 
until  the  latest  moment ;  but  she  did  not  doubt 
him  even  then.  Oh,  no ;  something  had  happened 
to  detain  him ;  she  should  see  him  after  church, 
perhaps,  and  that  was  better;  her  mind  would 
not  be  so  distracted  in  the  service.  It  was  a  dis 
appointment,  she  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  that, 


MAKGAKET'S  HOME.  273 

and  saw  for  the  first  time  how  much  she  had  de 
pended  on  it,  with  all  her  denials. 

"  Don't  try  to  read,  for  fear  of  the  headache  ; 
and  here  is  your  new  dress  to  hang  before  you  all 
the  morning,  ready  to  slip  on  the  moment  I  get 
here.  Good-by,"  was  her  farewell  to  Susie,  longing 
to  tell  her,  all  the  time,  what  had  really  happened. 
But  she  must  wait  to  see. 

Mr.  Grant  came  out  with  Margaret. 

"  "Won't  you  go,  father  ?  Your  clothes  look 
well  enough,  you  have  brushed  them  so  nicely." 
And  then  her  eyes  shone  suddenly,  for  there  he 
was,  crossing  the  street  to  meet  them.  Margaret 
took  her  father's  arm  instinctively  ;  and  her  pride 
in  him  was  never  greater  than  when  she  said, 
"  My  father,  Mr.  Churchill." 

They  walked  on  for  a  little  way  together ;  but 
when  they  came  to  a  broader  street,  Mr.  Grant 
stood  still,  and  said :  "  Mr.  Churchill,  Margaret 
has  told  me  all  about  it ;  I  believe  you  mean  well 
by  her  ;  I  hope  you  may  be  happy  ;  she's  been  a 
good  and  faithful  daughter  to  me." 

His  voice  grew  tremulous,  and  he  turned  away 
from  them  instantly.     He  could  not  bear  yet  to 
see  them  together ;  the  new-born  jealousy  rose  up, 
12* 


274  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

mingled  with  such  a  tender  love  for  Margaret,  in  the 
constant  recollection  of  what  she  had  been  to  him, 
as  in  all  those  many  years  he  had  never  felt  be 
fore. 

"He  has  given  you  to  me,  Margaret;  you 
are  mine,  now,"  Mr.  Churchill  said,  quietly. 

She  took  his  proffered  arm,  as  she  had  leaned 
on  her  father's  the  moment  before ;  she  felt  that 
the  transfer  was  final. 

They  had  not  much  to  say  in  that  first  walk  to 
gether.  Margaret's  many  questionings  died  away, 
now  that  she  had  met  him,  and  he  seemed  too 
much  absorbed  in  the  grave  reality  of  all  he  had 
assumed — the  right  to  guide  her  life  hereafter 
—for  outward  comment. 

The  crowd  thronged  past  the  iron  gates  as  on 
that  Sabbath  morning — how  little  while  ago  !  She 
could  scarcely  believe  that  so  few  days  had  passed 
since  her  solitary  communing.  How  strange  it 
seemed,  still  to  lean  upon  his  arm,  in  the  presence 
of  them  all,  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  who 
bowed  in  passing,  and,  she  felt,  regarded  her 
with  curious  scrutiny.  They  must  separate  in  a 
moment,  though.  They  stood  within  the  lobby, 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  but  Mr.  Churchill  did  not 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  275 

release  her.  Margaret  had  not  thought,  for  a  mo 
ment,  of  any  thing  but  her  own  obscure  and  humble 
corner ;  but  she  was  not  to  kneel  there  now.  She 
saw  only  the  tessellated  pavement,  and  she  went 
down  the  aisle,  following  a  stronger  will  than  her 
own.  She  looked  up  to  find  herself  surrounded  by 
those  well-known  household  faces,  silently  smiling 
a  welcome  to  her ;  she  could  not  be  mistaken  in 
that ;  making  a  place  for  her  in  their  midst ; 
adopting  her  in  God's  own  house  to  be  as  one  of 
themselves. 

She  covered  her  face  to  pray,  but  her  heart 
only  said,  "Oh,  my  God,  I  do  not  deserve  it  !  " 
and  the  thrilling  prelude  of  the  organ  above  them 
seemed  like  far-off  heavenly  music,  unreal  as  all 
the  rest. 

It  was  God's  own  house,  and  she  had  come  to 
worship  him,  not  to  indulge  in  dreams  of  earthly 
devotion.  The  thought  stilled  the  tumult  of  her 
soul,  and  steadied  her  voice  for  the  "  psalm  of 
thanksgiving,"  though  she  heard  but  one  deep- 
toned  response  through  all. 

Mr.  Churchill,  senior,  polished  his  spectacles 
far  more  than  was  usually  necessary,  all  through 


276  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

the  sermon,  and  his  wife  manifested  a  motherly 
anxiety  that  Margaret  should  be  comfortably  seat 
ed.  She  was  between  the  two  sisters,  and  now 
and  then  caught  a  look  from  the  elder,  that,  more 
than  any  thing  else,  made  her  feel  that  this  wel 
come  was  from  the  heart  and  not  by  constraint — 

"For  her  deep  blue  eyes  smiled  constantly,  as  if  they  had  by  fitness, 
The  secret  of  a  happy  dream  she  did  not  care  to  speak." 

When  they  came  out  from  the  joyful,  solemn 
services  of  the  day,  the  family  feeling  was  no 
longer  to  be  restrained. 

Mr.  Churchill  rubbed  his  hands  as  if  he  had 
done  a  good  thing,  after  he  had  shaken  Margaret's 
in  his  heartiest  manner.  Mrs.  Churchill  said,  "  Of 
course,  you  dine  with  us  to-day,  my  dear.  Agnes 
and  Lewis  will  walk ;  we  want  you  in  the  carriage 
with  us." 

It  was  in  vain  to  refuse — to  plead  home  duties. 
Margaret  found  herself  taken  possession  of,  the 
carriage  door  shut  on  her,  and  Lewis,  bowing  from 
the  sidewalk,  looked  so  happy  and  bright,  that  she 
knew  it  had  all  been  arranged  between  them. 
Her  anxiety  for  Susie  overcame  the  embarrass 
ment  she  would  otherwise  have  felt  painfully. 

"  I  have  a  little  sick  sister,  Mrs.  Churchill,  who 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  277 

is  watching  for  me  now,  I  dare  say ;  you  are  very 
kind,  but  I  cannot  leave  her." 

"Oh,  it  is  the  little  girl  Lewis  spoke  of,  I 
know,  my  dear.  Does  she  cough  much  ?  You 
must  have  young  Dr.  Meigs  see  her.  He  is  our 
family  physician,  now  that  his  father  has  given  us 
up.  Has  she  been  very  sick? — You  must  feel 
anxious  about  her." 

"  Take  her  to  the  country  next  summer,  that 
will  set  her  up  ;  nothing  like  trotting  about  on  the 
green  grass  to  bring  a  child  round  again,"  said  Mr. 
Churchill;  and  yet  the  horses'  heads  were  not 
turned ;  they  were  carrying  her  away  from  Susie 
rapidly. 

Margaret  ventured  another  remonstrance :  "  I 
am  sure  it  will  not  do ;  I  do  not  dare  to  leave  her 
all  day ;  some  other  time." 

"  You  shall  go  just  when  you  say  so,  my  dear; 
but  we  feel  anxious  to  be  better  acquainted  with 
you,  don't  we,  father  ? " 

"  You  might  as  well  take  it  patiently ;  you 
see  there's  a  league."  Kate  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  little  discussion  before,  and  Margaret  felt 
less  at  ease  with  her  than  any  of  the  rest.  It  was, 
perhaps,  an  undefined  association  with  her  friend 


278  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Miss  Wright,  as  well  as  Kate's  dashing,  stylish 
manner;  differing  from  the  simple  cordiality  of 
the  others. 

"  You  do  not  know  how  anxious  I  am ;  I  hope 
I  do  not  seem  perverse  ?  "  Margaret  said,  turning 
to  her. 

"  La,  yes  I  do ;  don't  we,  mamma  ?  It's  just  like 
my  sister  Anne,  worrying  her  life  out  if  she  leaves 
her  baby  half  an  hour.  But  you  really  shall  go 
if  you  want  to,  sha'n't  she,  papa,  the  very  minute 
she  says  so,  after  she's  been  introduced  to  the 
house,  and  the  furniture,  and  seen  us  with  our 
bonnets  off?  You've  got  to  put  up  with  us  all, 
you  know,  and  you  might  as  well  begin." 

So  Margaret  was  forced  to  content  herself,  lest 
she  should  seem  unreasonable  to  her  new  friends, 
who  could  not  possibly  understand  Susie's  position 
at  home,  and  she  did  not  care  to  provoke  any 
further  allusion  from  the  saucy  Kate.  It  was  a 
part  of  the  morning's  unreality,  the  same  feeling 
which  had  scarcely  left  her  since  the  evening  be 
fore,  to  find  herself  leaning  back  in  this  smoothly- 
rolling  vehicle,  roomy  and  softly  cushioned,  as  be 
came  the  fortunes  of  the  family,  and  talking  with 
Mrs.  Churchill  of  her  sister's  sickness,  into  which 


MAKGARET'S  HOME.  279 

that  good  lady  entered  with  true  maternal  in 
terest. 

Mr.  Churchill,  when  they  reached  his  house, 
handed  her  up  the  steps  himself,  and  "  mother," 
bustling  after,  took  Margaret's  hands  in  both  her 
own  and  kissed  her  warmly.  Margaret's  eyes 
filled  with  tears.  Were  all  her  dreams  of  house 
hold  love  to  be  fully  realized  ? 

"She  belongs  to  us,  now,  doesn't  she,  mother? 
I  think  I  must  have  my  kiss  too,"  And  Mr. 
Churchill  helped  himself  accordingly.  "Before 
Lewis  himself,  I  dare  say !  Ha,  ha !  pretty  good, 
to  steal  a  march  on  him ! "  and  he  patted  her 
blushing,  burning  face,  before  he  released  her. 

"  Now,  make  yourself  quite  at  home,  my  dear, 
as  you  are,  you  know,"  said  Mrs.  Churchill,  with 
a  sudden  reminiscence  of  the  dinner  in  prospect, 
and  the  disastrous  carelessness  of  cooks  in  general. 
"  Kate  will  take  care  of  you  till  the  others  come  ; 
they  won't  be  long  behind." 

"  Kate  will  be  very  glad  to,  when  you  all  get 
done  with  her.  Come  straight  up  to  my  room, 
Margaret,  for  if  sister  gets  you  in  hers  first,  there's 
an  end  of  my  claim.  She  and  Lewis  are  such 
gossips,  that  she  intends  to  monopolize  you,  I  have 


280  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

no  doubt.  That's  her  den ;  up  another  flight  from 
mine.  There ;  this  is  Liberty  Hall !  " 

It  was  a  large  bright  room,  quite  as  character 
istic  as  her  sister's,  and  pleasant  in  its  way,  though 
by  no  means  so  home-like  or  orderly.  The  bed 
was  strewn  with  wearing  apparel,  and  the  dress 
ing-table  in  a  sad  confusion  of  ornaments,  gloves, 
hair-pins  and  brushes. 

"I  don't  allow  any  one  to  clear  up  but  myself, 
after  the  room  is  once  done  for  the  day.  I  like 
my  things  handy.  I  give  you  free  admittance. 
Oh,  yes,  you  must  take  off  your  bonnet ;  I  will  see 
that  you  go  the  very  minute  you  say  so ;  but  take 
it  off,  or  you  won't  begin  to  feel  at  home." 

Kate  Churchill  tossed  her  own  into  the  centre 
of  the  bed,  and  untied  Margaret's  with  the  pretty 
despotism  she  practised  on  all  the  family.  "There, 
now ;  seat  yourself  by  the  window  and  watch  for 
them.  You're  after  sister's  own  heart,  I  see.  Ko 
— come  here  and  try  my  Castle  Indolence.  Isn't 
it  a  famous  old  chair  ?  I  routed  it  out  of  the  gar 
ret  and  had  it  covered  myself." 

Fortunately  her  hostess  gave  Margaret  very 
little  space  for  reply,  but  rattled  on  steadily,  as  she 


MAJKGAEET'S  HOME.  281 

brushed  out  her  puffs,  and  made  a  rapid  dinner 
toilet. 

"  You  won't  mind  my  going  on,  will  you  ?  So 
I'll  dress  all  the  same  as  if  you  were  Josephine." 

Was  the  allusion  intentional  ?  Margaret 
caught  the  keen  glance  of  Kate's  fine  eyes,  and 
a  certain  distrust  disturbed  her.  Kate  watched 
her  varying  color  with  merciless  scrutiny,  as  she 
finished  her  dressing  operations. 

"  What  splendid  hair  you  have !  Why  don't 
you  dress  it  so  as  to  show  what  it  is  ?  Do  let  me 
try."  And,  leaning  over,  she  drew  out  the  comb, 
before  Margaret  could  prevent  the  mischief. 
"  There,  now,  you  will  have  to  sit  still,  and  let  me 
do  as  I  please ;  besides,  I've  got  something  to  tell 
you." 

"  Do  not  be  long,  then  " — and  Margaret's  tone 
expressed  very  little  resignation  to  her  fate. 
She  felt  ill  at  ease — distrustful  still  of  Kate, 
anxious  about  Susie,  and,  if  the  truth  must  be 
told,  icstless  to  see  Lewis  once  more,  and  hear 
from  him  the  assurance  that  she  was  truly  wel 
come  in  his  home. 

"  I  might  as  well  own  up  first  as  last,"  said 
Kate,  brushing  away  vigorously,  "  that  I  stood  out 


282  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

against  you  last  night.  It  was  only  last  night  that 
Lewis  told  us,  you  know,  though  it  seems  sister 
knew  it  wasn't  his  fault  if  you  did  not  marry  him 
— oh,  I  don't  know,  some  days  ago.  If  you  want 
to  be  jealous  of  any  one,  she's  the  person — those 
two  people  can't  keep  any  thing  from  each  other 
five  minutes.  It  was  always  so,  but  a  great  deal 
more  since  sister  was  sick.  I'll  tell  you,  since 
you're  coming  into  the  family — though  we  never 
speak  of  it  now — that  sister  was  engaged  herself 
once,  but  it  turned  out  badly ;  the  horrid  man 
was  very  gay,  and  deceived  her  about  it.  So  she 
broke  it  off,  though  she  had  a  dreadful  sickness, 
and  we  all  thought  we  should  lose  her." 

This  explained  to  Margaret  the  reason  of  the 
quiet  sadness,  or  more  really  thoughtfulness,  that 
so  distinguished  Miss  Churchill's  face.  And 
thinking  of  the  confidence  between  the  brother 
and  sister,  their  conferences,  of  which  she  felt 
herself  the  subject,  suddenly  came  into  her  mind. 
So  it  was  kindliness  after  all ! 

"  Now  you  must  let  me  do  exactly  as  I  please 
with  your  hair.  As  to  my  opposition,  I'm  all  over 
it,  and  I  intend  to  like  you  very  much.  Lewis 
will  tell  you  that  I  never  do  any  thing  by  halves. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  283 

But,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  so  sudden.  We 
were  all  sitting  round  the  fire,  waiting  for  Lewis, 
when  in  he  came  white  as  a  ghost,  positively,  as 
if  he  had  been  drowned  instead  of  engaged,  and 
Agnes  started  up — she  knew,  it  appears,  that  he 
was  going  to  try  and  see  you  in  some  way  last 
evening — and  she  said,  '  "Well ! ' 

"  '  I  hope  so,'  said  he.  And  then  he  came  and 
sat  down  between  father  and  mother,  and  told 
them  all  about  you,  and  how  you  had  taken  care 
of  your  little  sister,  and  studied,  and  read,  and 
behaved  yourself  generally,  and  that  he  wanted  to 
put  a  stop  to  it  all  by  taking  charge  of  you 
and  everybody  else  himself.  Sister  made  her 
speech,  too,  and  swore  to  all  Lewis  said,  and 
mamma  cried,  and  papa  used  his  pocket-handker 
chief  trumpet-fashion.  My  dear,  it  was  as  good  as 
a  play !  Now,  don't  get  vexed.  %  I  did ;  for  I  had 
set  my  heart  on  his  marrying  Josephine  Wright, 
and  I  told  him  he  had  behaved  shamefully  to-  her. 
I  dare  say  you  think  he  couldn't  behave  shame 
fully  to  any  one  !  He  and  Agnes  set  to  work  to 
prove  to  me  that  it  was  all  my  imagination  and 
mamma's,  because  she  was  so  anxious  to  get  Lewis 
married." 


284:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

Margaret's  inborn  pride  struggled  for  a  mo 
ment  with  her  better  nature,  to  put  thoughts  of 
anger  towards  Kate,  and  distrust  of  Lewis,  rn  the 
"  vessel  of  her  peace,"  but  she  battled  with  it 
bravely,  in  the  silence  she  enjoined  upon  herself. 

"  I  wouldn't  hear  one  word  though,  till,  just  in 
the  midst  of  it,  I  got  a  note  from  Joe,  with  that 
cologne-stand  there  on  the  bureau — the  seventh 
cologne-stand,  my  dear,  that  came  into  this  house 
last  evening !  Everybody  pitches  on  them  when 
they  don't  know  what  else  to  get  at  Christmas,  as 
they  give  children  JSToah's  Arks.  Charley  had 
three  Noah's  Arks  this  morning,  with  the  pros 
pect  of  another.  There's  the  note  now.  I  was 
so  vexed  that  I  tossed  it  into  the  table-drawer  last 
night.  Just  hear !  " 

"  But  perhaps  I  ought  not  to." 

"  Oh  dear,  ye"s !  It  will  set  your  mind  at  rest, 
too,  if  you  ever  heard  the  report  that  they  were 
engaged  ;  I  know  you  have  by  the  way  you  looked 
just  now." 

Kate  smoothed  out,  and  glanced  over  the 
crumpled,  amber-colored  sheet. 

"  She  wrote  to  tell  me  that  she  was  engaged 
herself  two  days  ago.  Let's  see,  Monday  evening. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  285 

Three  whole  days  ago,  and  without  telling  me; 
however,  we  shall  never  be  BO  intimate  again. 
She  says  it  was  the  night  Lewis  rode  home  with 
her  from  Anne's — my  own  plan  it  was,  too — and 
she  knew,  if  ever  he  intended  to  propose,  he 
would  have  done  it  then.  We  used  to  talk  it 
over,  you  know.  Don't  look  so  shocked.  And 
so,  as  Morton  Sargeant  did,  that  very  night,  she 
accepted  him  on  the  spot,  and  has  '  had  the  most 
beautiful  Christmas  presents  from  all  the  family ! ' 
So  that  matter  was  settled !  " 

Kate  forced  a  hair-pin  into  the  braid  she  had 
just  completed  with  such  energy  that  Margaret 
started  away  from  her,  her  mind  greatly  quieted, 
nevertheless,  by  the  relation  she  had  been  listening 
to.  After  all,  it  was  but  natural  that  Kate  should 
feel  as  she  had  done.  If  they  had  all  felt  so,  and 
opposed  the  whole  arrangement,  it  would  still 
have  been  what  she  might  have  expected. 

Margaret's  pride  gave  way  to  a  sudden  access 
of  humility,  as  she  thought  how  few  would  ever 
have  overcome  conventional  prejudice  as  Lewis 
had  done,  or  would  have  received  her  so  warmly 
as  all  his  family  appeared  to  do.  The  very  aspect 
of  this  room,  so  large,  so  heavily  furnished — the 


286  LOSS  AOT>  GAIN}   OK, 

polished  wardrobe,  reflecting  her  figure  like  a 
mirror — the  elegant  dressing-bureau — the  low, 
graceful  bedstead — the  carpet,  with  its  tiny  bou 
quets  of  rose-buds — all  brought  home  to  her  the 
great  difference  as  to  their  social  position. 

"  There,  now — look  at  yourself,  and  be  obliged 
to  me.  I  wouldn't  have  supposed  it  would  make 
such  a  difference."  Kate  caught  up  an  opera- 
cloak  with  an  edge  of  ermine,  and  threw  it  over 
Margaret's  plain  attire,  then  wheeled  her  chair 
about  directly  in  front  of  the  mirror.  "  More  like 
Queen  Margaret  than  Lewis's  Saint:  he  was 
actually  so  poetical  as  to  liken  you  to  that  dis 
tinguished  individual,  when  I  asked  him  what 
kind  of  a  face  you  had ;  for  I  did  not  remember 
you,  though  sister  and  mamma  did." 

The  broad  braided  coronal  Kate  had  bound 
around  Margaret's  head  had  indeed  changed  the 
whole  style  of  her  face.  Margaret  scarcely  recog 
nized  herself.  But  it  was  not  the  coiffure  alone  ; 
the  bright,  hopeful  expression  belonged  to  the  new 
phase  of  life  she  had  entered  upon  so  suddenly. 

"  I  wonder  if  those  people  have  come  ;  it's  high 
time.  Don't  you  want  to  see  sister's  room  ?  Let's 
go  down." 


MAKGABET'S  HOME.  287 

It  was  a  relief  to  go  anywhere,  in  this  excited 
state  of  expectancy.  It  certainly  seemed  as  if 
Lewis  and  his  sister  might  have  reached  home 
long  ago.  Kate  had  by  no  means  hurried  in  her 
self-appointed  task  as  hair-dresser. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Miss  Churchill  to  the  light 
knock  which  announced  these  two  girls,  so  unlike, 
yet  standing  there  as  if  accustomed  for  years  to 
familiar  intercourse.  Even  Kate  respected  her 
sister's  love  of  quiet  and  seclusion  by  asking  for 
admittance ;  but  now  she  threw  open  the  door 
with  a  flourish,  and  gave  place  to  Margaret.  "  I 
was  just  coming  to  bring  Margaret  down,"  said 
Agnes,  turning  to  see  her. 

"  "When  you  had  put  your  bonnet  in  its  box, 
and  folded  your  shawl  in  the  original  creases. 
Where  is  your  Silver-hair  ?  Oh,  here  she  is.  Do 
you  know  your  sister,  little  one  ?  "  And  there  lay 
Susie  herself,  nestled  among  the  fair  large  pillows 
on  the  lounge,  the  crimson  frock  standing  out  by 
contrast,  and  the  short  golden  locks  brushed  back 
into  close  rings  on  her  blue-veined  forehead. 
Susie  seemed  much  more  at  home,  and  far  less 
astonished  than  Margaret  j  but  the  end  of  all  these 
mysteries  had  come. 


288  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

"  It  wasn't  very  good  of  you,  Margaret,  not  to 
tell  me  that  you  knew  my  Miss  Agnes  all  the  while." 

Agnes  turned  round  and  looked  towards  them 
with  that  same  "  slow  smile."  There  was  no  need 
for  Margaret  to  question  Lewis  now,  as  she  in 
tended  to  the  very  minute  she  saw  him  alone 
again,  how  he  knew  wher^her  home  was,  and  of 
her  home  life.  She  had  never  heard  Miss  Church 
ill's  name  before.  How  well  it  suited  her !  and 
how  thoroughly  happy  she  looked  in  the  success 
of  her  little  plot ! 

"  But  how  did  you  get  here,  Susie  ?  " 

"  She  brought  me,"  said  Susie,  laying  her  head 
back  again  contentedly,  and  wonderfully  at  home. 
But  Susie  had  lived  in  fairy  land  so  much  of  her 
life,  and  been  witness  to  so  many  Arabian  en 
chantments,  that  she  was  perfectly  satisfied  to  act 
in  one. 

'  But  how  ?  Who  dressed  you,  Susie  ?  " 

"Ruthy.  She  came  round  just  as  you  went, 
before  church,  and  dressed  me  in  five  minutes, 
and  told  me  to  keep  still  as  a  mouse  until  Miss 
Agnes  came  for  me.  She  said  you  were  going  to 
spend  the  day  with  her ;  so  I  knew  it  was  all 
right,  and  I  came  ;  though  I  did  not  think  it  was 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  289 

going  to  be  sucli  a  lovely  house ;  it's  as  good  as 
the  White  Cat's  Palace,  I  think." 

"  Good  Susie !  I  think  you  and  I  shall  be 
friends,"  said  Kate,  getting  down  on  the  floor 
beside  her.  "  Will  I  do  for  the  White-Cat  Prin 
cess  ?  I'm  sister  to  Miss  Agnes." 

"  Margaret  looks  like  a  princess  with  her  hair 
that  way,  doesn't  she  ?  Did  you  fix  it  so  ? " 

But  Margaret  did  not  care  to  have  Susie  enter 
on  one  of  her  eulogies. 

"  Was  father  at  home  when  you  came  away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ;  he  told  me  to  tell  you  he  hoped  you 
and  I  would  have  a  pleasant  time." 

"  She  wants  to  go  straight  home  again,  Susie," 
said  Kate ;  "  shall  we  let  her? " 

"  Do  you,  Margaret  ?   Oh,  I  wouldn't ! " 

The  deprecating  tone  spoke  Susie's  satisfaction" 
with  her  present  surroundings  and  prospects  very 
decidedly. 

"  But  I  didn't  tell  you,"  said  she,  breaking 
forth  again,  "  how  Miss  Agnes  wrapped  me  all  up 
in  a  great  shawl  when  she  came,  and  mother 
looked  so  astonished,  and  he  held  me  all  the 
way." 

"  There's  the  dinner-bell.   Come,  Susie  " — and 
13 


290  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

Kate  held  out  her  hand.  "  "We  dine  at  two  on 
Christmas  day,  to  give  the  servants  an  afternoon." 

Susie  rose  with  alacrity.  "  You'll  stay,  won't 
you,  Margaret  ? " 

"  I'll  answer  for  her,"  said  Agnes,  as  the  two 
came  close  behind. 

"  I  was  so  glad  it  was  the  good  gentleman  who 
took  me  to  you  in  the  store.  I  didn't  tell  you,  did 
I  ? "  said  Susie,  dropping  Kate's  hand  to  squeeze 
Margaret's,  by  way  of  venting  her  delight,  as 
they  went  out  into  the  hall.  "  He  said  he  was 
going  to  be  my  brother  too." 

"  Hush,  Susie  ! " 

"  He  did ;  didn't  he,  Miss  Agnes  ?  and  then  I 
was  to  call  him  Lewis.  Do  you  call  him  Lewis  ? 
I  should  be  afraid  to." 

"  So  is  she,"  said  some  one  close  behind  them, 
who  took  Margaret's  hand  and  drew  her  arm 
through  his.  "  Pass  on,  Kate.  Mother  and  father 
have  gone  down,  Agnes.  Anne  has  just  come, 
But  she  is  going  to  try  very  hard,  Susie." 

It  was  a  grand  family  dinner,  as  our  readers 
who  have  already  known  something  of  its  purvey 
ing,  can  well  imagine.  The  sirloin  before  Mr. 
Churchill,  the  turkey  which  Mrs.  Churchill  re- 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  291 

signed  to  Mr.  Parker's  carving,  the  chicken-pie 
helped  by  Agnes,  with  the  many  side-dishes  and 
sauces  which  went  to  make  up  the  feast.  Susie's 
eyes  opened  wider  and  wider  every  moment,  and 
she  ceased  to  ask,  "  May  I,  sister  ? "  before  tasting 
the  many  dainties  with  which  Mrs.  Churchill  con 
tinually  filled  her  plate ;  and  who  met  all  Mar 
garet's  "  Please  nots  "  with  a  "  Can't  possibly  hurt 
her,  my  dear;  just  what  she  needs,  building  up. 
Young  Dr.  Meigs  would  tell  you  so."  Charlie 
Parker,  seated  between  her  and  his  mother,  and 
very  busy  with  his  potato  and  turkey,  was  for 
once  thrown  quite  in  the  shade. 

The  dessert  was  equally  bountiful,  though 
Margaret  did  positively  prohibit  a  huge  slice  of 
the  famous  plum  pudding  to  the  object  of  Mrs. 
Churchill's  hospitable  cares.  Not  that  she  her 
self  had  been  neglected ;  there  were  so  many  to 
see  to,  that  if  Susie  had  not  been  there  to  dis 
tract  her  thoughts  from  her  novel  position,  she 
would  have  suffered  from  painful  embarrassment. 
Perhaps  Agnes  had  thought  of  this  when  laying 
her  plans  with  Lewis.  She  knew,  at  least,  that  it 
was  the  only  thing  which  would  keep  Margaret 
with  them  all  day.  But-the  dinner,  with  the  fresh 


LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OR, 

introductions  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Parker,  the  close 
neighborhood  of  Lewis,  and  Mr.  Churchill's  un 
comfortable  allusions,  was  a  trying  ordeal.  Mar 
garet  was  only  too  thankful  to  find  herself  quite 
alone  with  Lewis  in  the  drawing-room,  after  it  had 
all  ended,  the  family  disappearing  in  various  di 
rections,  and  Susie  with  them. 

Yet  it  was  the  first  moment  that  she  acknowl 
edged  fairly  to  herself  their  relation  to  each  other, 
and  she  stood  by  the  mantel  confused  and  shrink 
ing  a  little,  when  Lewis  came  towards  her,  and 
folded  her  closely  in  his  arms. 

"My  own  Margaret — -my pearl — all  my  own, 
soon.  You  must  not  make  me  wait  long  for  my 
home." 

She  felt  his  kiss  upon  her  brow,  as  she  leaned 
against  his  heart,  and  listened  to  its  strong  throb 
bing  as  she  had  done  the  night  before — a  fond, 
loving  kiss,  but  gentle  as  a  woman's,  with  its 
lingering  pressure. 

"  You  have  not  had  my  Christmas  gift  yet," 
he  said,  releasing  her  at  length.  "  "Will  you  take 
it,  Margaret?  "  He  slipped  a  golden  circlet,  with 
one  large  pure  pearl  in  the  centre,  on  the  hand  he 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  293 

still  held,  and  she  knew  all  that  he  implied  by  the 
emblem. 

The  afternoon  faded  in  the  twilight ;  the  fire 
shone  out  with  a  deeper  glow  into  the  dusky 
shadows  of  the  room ;  it  had  passed  so  swiftly. 
No  wonder,  when  there  was  so  much  to  be  said. 
Margaret  moved  to  speak  of  her  inner  life  as  she 
had  never  done  before  to  any  human  being,  tell 
ing  something  even  of  the  great  struggle  through 
which  she  had  passed,  not  to  love  him.  And  he 
in  turn — or  rather  it  was  this  that  unlocked  her 
heart — traced  the  gradual  interest  he  had  felt  in 
her  from  the  first  moment  they  had  met ;  how 
the  injustice  of  the  suspicion  which  had  fallen  on 
her  first  revealed  to  him  that  it  had  deepened  into 
love;  and  Margaret  rejoiced  in  the  trial  then,  as 
a  blessing  in  disguise,  and  thanked  God  for  the 
strength  that  had  kept  her  true  to  herself  and  her 
creed,  when  he  said  that  he  had  long  known  the 
real  offender,  and  still  hesitated  what  course  to 
pursue  towards  her. 

The  selfishness  of  lovers  is  proverbial,  and  it 
required  immense  self-denial  to  come  out  of  this 
mood  and  go  up  with  Agnes,  who  came  to  remind 
them  that  they  were  "  still  in  the  body,"  to  the 


294:  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

sitting-room  attached  to  Mrs.  Churchill's  chamber. 
Mrs.  Churchill  made  room  for  her  on  the  comfort 
able  old-fashioned  sofa,  and  expatiated  on  Charlie's 
teeth  and  accomplishments,  while  Susie  and  the 
young  gentleman,  on  the  floor  at  their  feet,  ap 
parently  the  best  of  friends,  made  interminable 
processions  of  the  animals  from  his  numerous 
arks. 

Mr.  Parker  and  his  respected  father-in-law 
meantime  were  discussing  the  prospects  of  busi 
ness  in  the  spring,  and  Mrs.  Parker  sat  in  "sister 
Agnes'  room,"  hearing  the  whole  story  of  the  en 
gagement  from  her. 

When  lights  disturbed  these  various  tete-a-tHes, 
tea  was  brought  up  socially,  the  handsome  silver 
equipage  shining  on  the  round  table,  at  which 
Mrs.  Churchill  presided,  while  Kate  made  herself 
generally  useful  as  waitress,  John  having  his 
share  of  the  holiday  abroad ;  after  which  they 
adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  Mrs.  Parker  ex 
cusing  herself  to  see  Charlie  in  bed,  but  not 
before  they  had  gathered  around  the  hearth  and 
sung  the  dear  old  evening  hymn,  a  time-honored 
custom,  brought  down  from  Mrs.  Churchill's  own 
home.  All  joined  in  the  hymn  ;  but  Susie's  voice 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  295 

rose  clear  and  full  above  the  rest,  so  that  even 
Agnes  involuntarily  paused  to  listen  to  its  strange 
sweetness,  and  wonder  at  the  child,  sitting  up 
erect,  with  reverently  folded  hands,  as  she  sang—  - 

"  Glory  to  thee,  my  G-od,  this  night, 
For  all  the  blessings  of  the  light" 

The  united  acknowledgment  of  dependence 
and  thanksgiving  touched  Margaret  as  nothing 
else  had  done,  and  drew  her  towards  them,  for 
were  they  not  all  of  the  same  "  household  of 
faith?" 

The  Christmas  day  was  over,  and  Margaret 
returned  to  her  own  lowly  home ;  but  she  would 
not  be  there  long,  for 

"  On  her  finger  was  a  ring 
She  could  still  see  glittering, 
Though  the  night  hid  every  thing." 


296  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

MKS.  GRANT'S  primary  ambition  was  accom 
plished,  though  it  still  soared  to  "  Alps  on  Alps  " 
above  the  neat  and  comfortable  house  in  Lombard 
Street,  within  sound  of  the  chimes  from  the  dear 
old  parish  church,  almost  beneath  its  shadow. 

Mr.  Dunlap  had  been  very  kind,  and  interested 
himself  to  persuade  Mr.  Adams  to  advance  all  that 
was  necessary  on  the  share  of  the  patent  Mr. 
Grant  had  retained  :  and  it  was  finally  arranged 
between  them  that  the  entire  right  should  be 
yielded  to  Mr.  Adams,  a  yearly  dividend  of  its 
proceeds  to  be  paid  to  the  fortunate  inventor.  It 
promised  to  be  a  fair  success,  without  involving 
Mr.  Grant  in  any  further  responsibility. 

Mrs.  Dunlap's  original  interest  was  heightened 
when  she  came  to  know  of  the  little  romance  in 
progress ;  and  she,  with  her  daughters,  had  called 
immediately;  so  that  Margaret  felt  she  should 


MAKQARET'S  HOME.  297 

have  some  friends  of  her  own  among  the  circle 
she  was  so  soon  to  enter.  Her  engagement  was 
of  course  a  nine  days'  wonder  to  the  town,  even 
entire  strangers  to  both  parties  making  it  the 
topic  of  conversation,  with  marginal  notes  and 
comments.  The  little  fortune  which  had  fallen  to 
Mr.  Grant,  and  which  was  doubled  and  trebled  as 
it  passed  from  one  to  another,  served  to  explain 
matters,  and  to  satisfy  the  wise  researches  of  pub 
lic  opinion. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Bond,  "  that  alters 
the  case :  and  I  suppose  his  friends  will  have  to 
overlook  her  having  been  in  the  store :  but  la,  I 
shall  always  think,  when  I  meet  her,  if  she  is  in 
the  Churchill  carriage,  how  many  times  she's  waited 
on  me  behind  the  counter !  Why,  she  sold  me  this 
very  brocade ! " 

"  I  pity  his  poor  sisters,  though,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Thompson.  "It  must  be  a  great  blow  to 
them,  especially  Kate.  But  it's  just  as  well  to 
have  her  airs  taken  down  a  little.  She's  the 
proudest  piece  I  ever  did  see.  How  did  they  take 
it,  Mrs.  Bond  ?  " 

"  Oh,  hard  enough,  at  first !     There   was   a 

tremendous  storm,  I'm  told.     Mr.  Churchill  said 
13* 


298  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OB, 

she  should  never  step  her  foot  into  the  house  ;  and 
Kate  cried  with  rage :  but  he  brought  them  all 
round,  after  a  while." 

"  But  they  seem  very  fond  of  her  now,"  urged 
Mrs.  "White,  who,  being  very  romantic  in  dispo 
sition,  was  dying  to  visit  Margaret,  and  quite  ready 
for  an  intense  friendship.  "  Our  pew  is  next  to 
theirs ;  and  she  sat  with  them  the  very  day  the 
engagement  came  out.  I  don't  believe  they  were 
so  very  much  opposed  to  it  as  the  people  say." 

"  La,  yes  they  were,  my  dear  !  I  had  it  from 
the  very  best  authority."  Mrs.  Bond  did  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  name  this  authority.  It 
was  her  chambermaid,  who  was  very  intimate 
with  the  domestics  of  the  Churchill  family.  "  Of 
course,  now  that  the  thing  is  done,  they  have  to 
make  the  best  of  it  before  people." 

It  is  thus,  dear  reader,  that  your  affairs  and 
mine  are  discussed  by  the  little  circle  that  make 
our  public  ;  and  this  is  the  maximum  of  truth  in 
the  various  bits  of  intelligence  circulating,  at  times, 
with  regard  to  what  we  fondly  consider  family 
secrets,  usually  to  be  traced  to  some  such  reliable 
and  trustworthy  source.  However,  let  us  go  on> 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  299 

as  did  the  Churchills,  in  "  the  integrity  of  our 
way ; "  and  none  of  these  things  shall  move  ns. 

They  could  not  trouble  Margaret's  peace.  It 
was  more  than  peace,  a  radiant  joy,  that  pervad 
ed  her  whole  life.  If  there  ever  is  a  time  when 
one  may  give  themselves  up  to  the  illusion  of 
perfect  human  happiness,  it  is  when  the  certainty 
of  mutual  affection  has  its  daily  signs  and  tokens 
in  the  watchful  love  that  seems  to  live  only  for 
the  one  object,  of  surrounding  us  with  all  that  can 
minister  to  our  comfort  and  happiness  when  we 
women  reign  as  absolute  queens,  and  are  not  ask 
ed  or  expected  to  yield  our  wills  and  wishes  to  a 
divided  sovereignty — the  fleeting,  dreaming,  magic 
days  of  courtship — a  period  filled  with  all  that  the 
almost  disused  name  implies. 

To  Margaret,  who  had  never  from  her  child 
hood  known  a  time  of  watchful  care  and  shield 
ing,  but  had  ever  been  steadily  the  guardian  of 
the  well-being  and  happiness  of  others,  this  devo 
tion  was  especially  grateful.  From  the  first  mo 
ment  that  the  warm  folds  of  the  plaid  had  been 
thrown  around  her,  that  dreary,  stormy  evening, 
she  had  rested  in  being  cared  for,  as  one  who  has 
buffeted  long  with  angry  waves,  enjoys  doubly 


300  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

the  stillness  and  security  of  some  unlooked-for 
haven,  suddenly  opening  its  clear,  unruffled  tide 
and  sheltered  shores.  It  was  happiness  enough — 
and  so  great  that  it  was  sometimes  shadowed  by 
the  fear  of  change — to  sit  in  the  quiet  of  her  own 
room,  and  think  over  all  these  things,  as  her  needle 
flew,  in  the  preparation  of  the  ample  wardrobe 
her  father  had  charged  her  to  provide.  The  dread 
might  have  grown  into  morbid  presentiment  and 
apprehension,  had  it  not  been  for  the  added  trust 
she  had  gained  in  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the 
Providence  that  had  so  far  guided  her  life,  and  the 
strong  faith,  stronger  than  ever,  that,  when  re 
verses  came,  she  should  still  be  helped  to  rely  on 
infinite  wisdom,  and  look,  beyond  all  human  loss 
or  trial,  to  the  life  that  is  to  come.  Absorbed  in 
such  a  reverie,  her  eyes  dim  with  grateful  tears, 
Margaret  sat,  one  morning,  quite  alone.  She  had 
persuaded  Mrs.  Grant,  whose  disposition  improved 
with  her  fortunes,  to  send  the  boys  to  school  regu 
larly  ;  and  Susie  was  gone  to  her  morning  lesson 
with  her  dear  Miss  Agnes,  a  happy  hour  to  the 
little  girl  and  her  self-appointed  teacher. 

From  the  brightness  of  the  present  and  future, 
Margaret's  thoughts  had  strayed  back  to  the  past 

J 


MARGAKET'S  HOME.  301 

winter,  and  rested  on  Adelaide  Long's  still  unac 
countable  enmity  towards  her.  She  had  scarcely 
thought  of  her,  of  late,  in  the  midst  of  her  absorb 
ing  occupations ;  and,  as  she  said  to  herself, 
"  Poor  girl  !  I  wonder  what  Lewis  has  decided. 
I  wish  I  could  see  her,  and  tell  her  how  she 
has  wronged  herself,"  Mrs.  Grant's  maid  of  all 
work,  a  tidy,  decent  girl,  came  up  to  announce  a 
visitor. 

"  Do  you  know  the  lady,  Joan  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am ;  and  she  had  a  veil  over  her 
face  ;  and  she  said  she  wanted  to  see  you  very 
particular.  She  tould  me  to  ask  you  if  she  can 
come  up  to  your  room.  She  wants  to  see  you  all 
alone.  Oh,  ma'am,  here  she  is  now ! "  said  the 
girl,  with  a  start,  as  a  light  step  came  close  behind 
her. 

Margaret  herself  started,  for  it  was  Adelaide 
Long,  who  had  followed  the  girl,  and  stood  before 
her. 

"  You  will  let  me  come  right  in,  won't  you, 
Margaret  ?  Do  ;  I  must  see  you  all  alone.  I 
would  not  meet  any  one  for  the  world."  The  tone 
and  manner  were  so  changed,  so  imploring,  and 
the  face,  now  that  she  drew  aside  her  veil,  looked 


302  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

so  thin  and  haggard,  that  Margaret  could  scarcely 
believe  it  was  Adelaide  after  all ;  and  when  the  door 
was  closed,  she  sank  on  the  nearest  chair,  and  be 
gan  sobbing  hysterically.  "  Oh,  Margaret,  don't 
tell  him — Mr.  Churchill  !  Ask  him  not  to  expose 
me  !  Oh,  it  would  kill  me  !  You  can  do  any 
thing  with  him,  I  know  :  ask  him  not  to  ex 
pose  it !  " 

"  "What  is  it,  Adelaide  ? "  said  Margaret,  sooth 
ingly.  She  knew  it  could  be  but  one  thing,  yet 
greatly  wondered  that  she  should  be  appealed 
to  as  knowing  the  guilt  already. 

"  I  know  you  don't  keep  any  thing  from  each 
other,  and  I've  just  found  out  it  was  you  who  was 
waiting  at  the  dressmaker's,  that  night.  Oh, 
Margaret,  I  know  I've  been  spiteful  and  wicked 
towards  you,  but  don't  tell,  or,  if  you  have,  beg 
him  to  let  me  go  !  won't  you,  Margaret  ?  I  felt 
so  guilty  that  night,  and  I've  often  worried  about 
it,  and  wondered  who  it  was  sitting  there  so  still. 
Mrs.  Down  said  it  was  you  ;  I  asked  her  last 
night,  when  I  went  to  pay  my  bill.  You've  got 
every  thing  in  the  world  to  make  you  happy  ;  if 
you  only  knew  how  miserable  I  was'  and  have  been 
ever  since  it  happened,  you  would  promise  me." 


MABGAKET'S  HOME.  303 

"  Mr.  Churchill  knows  all  about  it,  Adelaide." 
"  And  you  will  make  him  have  the  law  upon 
me.     You  hate  me  for  all  I  did ;  why  don't  you 
say  so  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  Adelaide,  I  hate  no  one." 
"  But  you  must  — you  can't  help  it ;  I  should, 
if  I  were  in  your  place.  I've  tried  every  way  to 
injure  you  and  hurt  your  feelings — I  know  I  have ; 
but  I  was  jealous  of  you,  Margaret,  and  if  you've 
ever  felt  that,  you  will  know  what  made  me  do 
so. '  It  was  Albert  Wood.  I  saw  he  began  to  talk 
to  you,  and  talk  about  you,  and  I  wanted  to  get 
you  out  of  the  store  out  of  his  way  ;  so  I  hid  the 
robe  first,  and  put  the  box  under  your  counter. 
I  did,  Margaret,  but  I  did  not  dream  of  stealing  it 
then." 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  !  " — and  Margaret  felt 
grieved  to  the  heart  that  any  one  could  deliberate 
ly  plan  and  execute  such  a  wrong  towards  another, 
apart  from  the  injury  to  herself.  "  Don't  wring 
your  hands  so,  Adelaide  ;  try  to  talk  quietly  ;  I 
have  never  injured  you  in  any  way." 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  never  did  !  That  was  what 
made  me  hate  you  the  more  after  I  had  done  it ; 
don't  pay  me  back  now.  Oh,  if  you  knew  all ! " 


304:  LOSS   AND   GAIN',   OR, 

"  Tell  me  all,  then  ;  you  can  trust  me,  Addy. 
I  did  not  even  tell  Mr.  Churchill." 

"  Did  not  ?  truly,  Margaret  ?  "  And  the  storm 
of  tears  was  stayed  with  wonder  at  such  undream 
ed-of  forbearance.  "  Not  even  when  they  thought 
you  took  it  ?  " 

"  No,  not  even  after  I  knew  you  had  the  robe 
and  had  worn  it.  Will  you  not  tell  me  now  ? 
But  you  must  not  think  that  I  did  not  want  to  or 
mean  to,  at  first ;  it  was  a  very  hard  struggle,  and 
if  I  had  been  left  to  myself,  I  should  have  done  it." 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  didn't,  but  I  will  tell 
you  ;  I  know  you  will  not  let  Mr.  Churchill  bring 
me  out.  Say  you  won't ;  I'll  get  down  on  my 
knees  to  you — I'll  do  any  thing  !  "  pleaded  Ade 
laide. 

Margaret  looked  at  her  sorrowfully  ;  she  could 
not  bear  to  witness  such  humiliation. 

"I can't  promise  for  Mr.  Churchill,  but  I  know 
he  does  not  wish  to  injure  you,  any  more  than 
I  do.  He  will  do  just  what  he  thinks  best  and 
right ;  I  could  not  influence  him  otherwise,  if  I 
wished  to. ' ' 

"  But,  Margaret,  suppose  that  when  he  was 
going  to  marry  you,  only  he  had  not  said  so,  but 


MAJRGAKET'S  HOME.  -   305 

looked  and  acted  it,  and  waited  on  you,  you 
should  find  that  he  was  thinking  about  somebody 
else,  and  hesitating  which  to  have  ?  That  was  the 
way  of  it,  and  I  knew  Albert  didn't  love  you,  only 
everybody  in  the  store  thought  you  must  have 
saved  a  great  deal  of  money,  because  you  lived  at 
home  and  spent  so  little  on  yourself ;  and  I  know 
that  if  I  had  any  money,  he  would  not  have  hesi 
tated  a  minute." 

"  He  did  not  love  you,  then,"  said  Margaret, 
indignantly.  "  You  will  be  a  great  deal  better  off 
without  him.  If  he  had  loved  you  truly,  he  never 
would  have  thought  of  any  one  else." 

"  I  didn't  care  then,  so  I  had  him  away  from 
every  one  else.  I  loved  him,  Margaret ;  I  love 
him  now.  Yes,  nothing  he  does  or  can  do  will 
alter  it  ;  but  I  know  what  you  mean.  Never  mind, 
I  would  have  married  him,  if  I  had  felt  it  all 
then.  I  have  been  married  two  months,  Margaret." 
The  bitterness,  the  fierceness,  that  passed  over  that 
changed  face,  told  a  more  pitiful  story  than  her 
words.  She  was  already  reaping  the  wages  of 
wrong-doing ;  her  blind  self-will  and  vanity  had 
bound  her,  for  life,  to  a  selfish,  heartless  man. 
Two  months  only,  and  she  was  already  a  neglected, 


-306  LOSS  AND  GAUST;  OK, 

suffering  wife.  "It  must  come  out,  sooner  or 
later,"  she  said,  more  sullenly,  when  she  found 
that,  in  her  vehemence,  she  had  betrayed  her  se 
cret  ;  "  the  sooner  the  better  ;  I  am  tired  of  it — 
tired  of  every  thing  !  I  wish  I  was  dead !  I  do  ! 
dead !  " 

"  You  must  not  talk  so  ;  you  do  not  mean  it. 
You  are  angry  at  something,  just  now.  I  hope 
you  will  be  happy."  But  as  Margaret  uttered  the 
wish— and  it  was  said  sincerely — she  felt  that 
there  was  very  little  chance  for  its  fulfilment. 

"You  know  it  all,  now — just  what  made  me 
hate  you  so,  when  he  tormented  me  by  talking 
about  you  ;  and  afterwards,  I  thought  the  dress 
would  be  so  becoming.  I  did  not  mean  really  to 
take  it  at  first,  only  to  make  them  think  you  had  ; 
and  I  was  bent  on  having  him.  I  only  wore  it  to 
make  him  fond  of  me.  He  knew  I  was  extrava 
gant,  and  he  did  not  think  of  any  thing  wrong ; 
that  was  what  kept  him  back,  because  I  had 
nothing ;  I  always  spent  every  dollar  on  my  dress. 
Oh,  Margaret,  if  I  had  only  known  better !  If  I 
had  only  had  some  one  to  tell  me,  when  I  was 
younger  to  keep  me  back  !  But  I  never  had  any 
thing  else  to  do  with  what  I  earned." 


MABGAKET'S  HOME.  307 

The  care  for  others  had  kept  Margaret  from 
this  temptation,  at  least ;  she  had  never  recognized 
the  blessing  it  had  been  to  her,  in  all  its  fulness 
before.  She  longed  to  say  something  that  could 
help  and  comfort  Adelaide,  she  seemed  so 
thoroughly  humbled  and  broken  in  spirit.  To  do 
right  was  all  that  Lewis  desired ;  surely,  she  could 
promise  for  him  not  to  "  break  a  bruised  reed." 

"  I  know  Mr.  Churchill  only  wishes  your  real 
good,  Addy.  He  did  not  think  it  was  right  or 
just  to  you  and  to  the  others  to  let  it  go  without 
any  notice,  and  he  has  waited  to  see  whether  you 
were  in  fault,  again.  He  will  understand  it  now, 
and  forgive  you,  if  you  will  only  try  to  do  differ 
ently  in  all  things.  You  will  promise  me  to  " — 

"  I  will  do  any  thing,  Margaret,  I  said  I  would ; 
only  it  would  kill  me,  don't  you  see,  if  he — Albert 
— should  find  it  out.  He  would  leave  me  in  a 
minute ;  I  think  He  means  to,  sometimes,  now.  I 
did  not  mean  to  say  that,  but  you  don't  know, 
yon  don't  know ! " — and  she  wrung  her  hands  again 
passionately. 

If  Margaret  had  wished  to  see  her  enemy  suf 
fering  double  for  all  she  had  undergone,  she  could 
have  had  her  revenge ;  but  she  had  tried  to  think 


308  LOSS  AND   GAm;   OK 


gently  and  pityingly  always  ;  she  had  prayed,  many 
a  day,  from  an  earnest  soul  —  "  Forgive  our  ene 
mies,  persecutors  and  slanderers,  and  turn  their 
hearts"  This  was  her  answer.  Who  could  tell 
but  that,  from  deeps  so  broken  up,  true  penitence 
might  spring?  She  hoped  so,  she  prayed  so, 
silently,  as  she  tried  to  soothe  the  miserable  girl. 

"  You  are  an  angel,  Margaret  !  "  said  Ade 
laide,  suddenly,  lifting  her  face  from  her  hands, 
and  pushing  back  the  disordered  hair  from  her 
hot,  swollen  eyes.  "  How  can  you  say  such  things 
to  me,  when  you  know  I  tried  my  best  to  injure 
you?  What  makes  you  forgive  me,  and  promise 
to  help  me  ?  "  And,  as  she  asked  the  question,  a 
dim  sense  of  the  reality  of  the  faith  which,  could 
so  bend  the  natural  human  impulse  of  retaliation 
dawned  on  the  shame  and  wretchedness  of  the 
hour. 

It  was  a  painful  scene,  from  first  to  last  ;  and 
after  she  was  gone,  Margaret  felt  as  if  a  great 
weight  had  been  suddenly  laid  upon  her,  with 
every  recollection  of  that  wild,  haggard  face.  She 
bore  it  where  all  her  own  griefs  were  laid  ;  for 
she  remembered  the  charge,  "Love  your  ene 
mies  ;  "  and  yet  again  :  "  Bear  ye  one  another's 
burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ." 


MAKGARET'S  HOME.  309 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  wedding-day  had  come.  "  At  last !  "  said 
Lewis  Churchill.  "  So  soon  !  "  thought  Margaret, 
as  she  tried  to  regain  the  calm  happiness  with 
which  she  had  looked  forward  to  it  from  the  short 
winter  days.  It  was  difficult  to  do  this  in  the 
unusual  bustle  of  the  household,  and  especially 
of  her  own  room,  where  Kate  Churchill  reigned 
supreme.  They  were  to  walk  to  church,  for  it 
was  but  a  stone's  throw ;  and  it  suited  the  sim 
plicity  of  the  bride's  fortunes  better  than  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  which  Mrs.  Churchill  tried 
to  prove  to  her  were  quite  indispensable.  Agnes 
and  Lewis  were  both  on  Margaret's  side ;  and 
their  mother  was  forced  to  content  herself  with 
the  arrangement  of  the  no  longer  vacant  house 
next  to  Anne's  in  Ashburton  Place.  Here  she 
toiled  early  and  late,  with  "  father  "  for  a  busy 
and  efficient  aid,  in  the  midst  of  upholsterers  and 


310  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

paper-hangers,  until  she  had  the  satisfaction  ot 
shutting  the  hall- door  on  the  whole  of  the  delay 
ing,  troublesome  troop,  and  turning  the  key  on  a 
finished  work. 

"  You  will  at  least  take  off  your  bonnet  in  the 
vestry,"  said  Kate.  "  Do,  Margaret.  I  shall  not 
feel  as  if  I  am  a  bridesmaid  at  all,  especially  as  I 
have  jilted  Josephine  in  your  service.  I  wonder 
which  she  thinks  most  of,  this  morning,  her  hus 
band  that  is  to  be,  or  her  wedding-dress  ?  Lepage 
is  to  do  her  hair." 

"  You  are  my  first  and  last  hair-dresser,  you 
know,  Kate." 

"Then  let  me  do  as  I  please.  The  bonnet 
comes  off — and  here  go  these  white  rose-buds 
Ruth  has  brought,  with  all  their  foliage — it's  just 
enough — and  some  of  this  trailing  white  vine, 
whatever  it  is — as  you  won't  have  a  wreath,  and 
veil,  and  things." 

Margaret  was  content  to  submit  to  her  authori 
tative  dressing-maid.  She  was  thinking  neither 
of  her  wedding-dress,  nor  yet  of  Lewis,  but  of 
Susie,  her  child,  her  nursling — of  her  gray-haired 
father  who  walked  the  rooms  below  with  restless, 
unquiet  tread — and  of  her  dead  mother's  charge. 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  311 

Susie  wondered  at  the  long  yearning  looks 
which  followed  her  about  the  room.  There  was 
nothing  that  she  could  see  to  grieve  about ;  they 
were  not  going  to  be  separated ;  she  had  already 
been  taken  into  Mrs.  Churchill's  confidence,  and 
shown  that  dear  little  room  Lewis  had  given 
especial  charge  to  be  fitted  up  for  her.  Her 
Utopia  had  descended  from  the  clouds ;  and  she 
was  to  dwell  in  it  securely,  Margaret  and  herself 
really  living  together — not  quite  alone  ;  but  then 
she  did  not  mind  "  brother  Lewis,"  as  she  began 
to  call  him.  He  was  an  improvement  decidedly 
on  her  original  scheme. 

A  new  life  had  lighted  up  Susie's  large  loving 
eyes,  and  tinged  her  cheek  with  a  faint  rose  flush, 
the  whole  face  rounding  and  brightening  into 
something  of  the  grace  of  childhood.  Short, 
close  curls,  catching  the  sunlight,  made  up  the 
picture ;  and  Susie  may  be  pardoned  a  little 
vanity  in  her  first  real  white  dress  and  blue  rib 
bons,  for  she  was  to  be  second  bridesmaid,  and 
already  felt  quite  as  old  as  "  Miss  Kate,"  who  was 
to  officiate  as  principal  attendant,  and  had  drilled 
her  thoroughly  in  the  morning's  duties. 

The  same  feeling  of  unreality  which  made  her 


312  LOSS  AND  GAIN;  OK, 

as  one  walking  in  a  dream,  that  Christmas  Day, 
haunted  Margaret,  as  she  once  more  entered  the 
old  church,  and  passed  down  the  broad  aisle 
towards  the  chancel.  A  glorious  Easter  sun  had 
flushed  the  great  willows  and  the  churchyard  with 
vivid  green ;  and  soft  shadows  came  and  went 
among  the  bridal  party  as  they  gathered  about 
the  rail.  They  were  not  alone.  Friends  and 
acquaintances  stood  up  in  the  ample  pews ;  the 
old  companions  of  Margaret's  daily  life,  half- 
pleased  half-envious,  at  the  prosperity  which  had 
come  to  her,  leaned  forward  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
her  face  in  passing ;  and  strangers,  attracted  only 
by  the  rumor  of  a  church-wedding,  had  turned 
aside  with  vague  curiosity  and  admiration  of  the 
queenly  simplicity  and  elegance  of  the  bride. 
The  rich  light  from  the  chancel  window  rested  on 
her  bowed  head  as  she  knelt  and  strove  to  quell 
the  tumult  of  glad  and  painful  thought;  for 
though  Lewis  was  beside  her,  she  heard  still  her 
father's  tremulous,  parting  blessing,  and  knew 
how  much  of  the  brightness  of  his  life  he  had 
cheerfully  resigned.  The  heavy  braided  coronal, 
the  few  white  flowers,  the  full-flowing  folds  of  the 
dove-colored  silk  that  swept  around  her  to  the 


MARGARET'S   HOME.  313 

marble  pavement  was  all  her  "  worldly  arraying ; " 
but  even  Mrs.  Churchill,  looking  on  through  her 
smiles  and  tears,  was  fully  satisfied,  and  wondered 
she  had  never  thought  Margaret  beautiful  before. 

"And  so  endeth  the  wooing,"  with  the  few 
solemn  words  involving  a  lifetime  happiness  and 
often  the  destinies  of  the  hereafter,  with  the  bless 
ing  of  their  friend  and  pastor,  who  knew  all,  and 
rejoiced  with  them — the  kisses  and  congratula 
tions  of  those  near  at  hand,  not  forgetting  Mrs. 
Grant,  who  in  a  toilet  of  Margaret's  choosing, 
sustained  herself  wonderfully,  and  controlled  the 
boys  by  manifold  maternal  gestures,  better  under 
stood  than  described — Ruth's  proud,  motherly 
kiss,  for  Ruth  felt  herself  to  be  the  chief  original 
cause  of  this  fortunate  climax,  and  certainly  was 
confided  in  and  "  made  much  "  of  by  them  all,  as 
if  she  had  been — with  the  close  pressure  of  the 
arm  on  which  she  leaned,  and  the  thrilling  whis 
per,  "  My  wife,"  as  they  turned  from  the  little 
crowd — "  Margaret "  was  known  henceforth,  as 
Mrs.  Churchill. 

As  for  Mrs.  Churchill,  senior,  her  triumph 
was  yet  to  come ;  she  was  in  her  element,  in  ex 
ecuting  the  manoauvre  by  which  Agnes,  "  father," 
14 


314:  LOSS   AND   GAIN;   OR, 

and  herself  were  detached  from  the  party  waiting 
the  signing  and  sealing  in  the  vestry,  leaving 
Kate  and  Susie  to  follow  in  the  carriage  with 
Lewis  and  his  wife.  It  was  her  kind,  motherly 
face  that  watched  for  them  from  the  parlor  win 
dow  in  Ashburton  Place,  and  was  first  to  welcome 
Margaret  home.  Yes,  she  had  her  home  at  last ; 
its  bright,  cheerful  rooms  looked  a  welcome,  as  she 
went  from  one  to  another,  Lewis,  too,  seeing  them 
for  the  first  time,  for  he  had  left  all  to  his  mother 
and  sisters.  Mrs.  Churchill  bustled  on  before 
them,  throwing  open  doors,  displaying  closets, 
glorying  especially  in  the  linen-press,  filled  to 
overflowing:  while  Susie  followed  on  behind, 
exclaiming,  admiring,  rejoicing  in  all  she  saw, 
especially  the  fine  piano  in  the  parlor,  which  she 
was  to  be  allowed  to  practise  the  lessons  from 
Agnes  upon,  appealing  to  Margaret,  and  Lewis, 
and  Kate,  by  turns,  to  say  if  "  her  room,  though, 
was  not  a  great,  great  deal  the  prettiest." 

There  certainly  seemed  nothing  to  be  desired 
— taste,  experience,  and  liberal  expenditure  had 
combined  in  the  arrangement ;  and  in  Margaret's 
own  room,  with  its  carved  furniture  and  graceful 
draperies,  stood  a  round  table,  covered  with  her 


MARGARET'S  HOME.  315 

bridal  gifts.  She  had  not  thought  of  these.  Lewis 
had  bought  her  the  pearl  brooch  clasping  the  lace 
about  her  neck,  and  she  valued  it  as  his  gift. 
But  here  were  ornaments  more  than  she  should 
ever  wear — silver,  from  Mrs.  Dunlop's  napkin- 
rings,  and  Anne  Parker's  dozen  forks,  to  the 
whole  tea  equipage,  which  Mr.  Churchill  had 
hurried  to  order  at  the  earliest  moment  after  the 
wedding-day  was  fixed — a  wonderful  toilet-cushion, 
of  lace,  and  muslin,  and  white  ribbons,  which  Susie 
had  manufactured,  under  the  superintendence  of 
Miss  Agnes,  also  greatly  aided  by  her  as  we  are 
obliged  to  confess — and  a  Bible,  in  large  clear 
type  and  plain  binding,  her  own  father's  hand 
had  inscribed,  "To  my  dear  daughter  Margaret." 
We  will  not  return  again,  with  the  crowd  of 
kinsfolk  and  acquaintance  who  thronged  the 
parlors  that  evening,  to  offer  good  wishes  and 
congratulations.  We  have  seen  Margaret's  home 
in  its  best  and  loveliest  light,  and  we  dread  no 
future  evil  or  change  to  come  on  those  that  dwell 
therein  ;  for  they  trusted  in  One  who  hath  said, 
"  My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,  and  I  will  give 
thee  rest." 


D.  Appleton  &  Go's  Juvenile  Publications. 

MORTIMER'S  COLLEGE  LIFE.  By  E.  J.  MAY,  author 
of  "  Lewis's  School  Days,"  etc.  With  illustrations,  1  vol. 
16mo.  75  cents;  gilt  edges,  $1. 

A  very  pretty  story  prettily  told.  A  vein  of  humor  runs  throughout 
the  volume,  tinctured  with  just  enough  of  religious  sentiment  to  make  it 
agreeable  and  instructive  to  the  reader.  The  plot  is  evidently  founded  on 
fact,  with  now  and  then  a  dash  of  romance  to  make  it  interesting.— Penn- 
tylvanian. 

LOUIS'S  SCHOOL  DAYS.  A  Story  for  Boys.  By  E.  J 
MAT.  16mo.  illustrated  with  engravings,  75  cents. 

The  School-days  of  Louis  present  a  great  variety  of  incident  and  char 
acter.  The  story  is  naturally  and  effectively  told,  and  is  calculated  to  en 
courage  the  young  to  persevere  in  the  path  of  Christian  duty.— Morning 
Post. 

Written  in  the  right  spirit,  by  one  who  can  recall  his  own  youth,  de 
scribe  its  feelings,  revive  its  joys  and  sorrows,  and-  speak  its  language , 
there  is  nothing  in  literature  more  attractive. — London  Literary  Journal. 

THE   SUNSHINE  OF    GREYSTONE.      A    Story    for 
Girls.     By  E.  J.  MAT,  author  of  Louis's  School  Boy 
Days.     1  vol.  16rao.  illustrated,  75  cents. 
Here  little  girls  is  a  sweet  book,  made  on  purpose  for  you,  in  neat  gilt 
binding  with  nice  engravings ;  a  delightful  story,  with  just  the  least  bit  of 
romance  for  those  of  you  who  arc  about  shedding  pantalettes,  a  little  love 
by  way  of  warning,  and  every  chapter  prefaced  with  a  text  from  scrip 
ture,  appropriate  to  its  contents,  and  designed  to  inculcate  the  virtues 
which  will  serve  to  adorn  you  when  you  become  women,  and  make  your 
homes  happy,  and  your  lives  useful — Detroit  Inquirer. 

Uniform  with  Louis's  School  Days. 
EDGAR  CLIFTON;  OK,  RIGHT  AND  WEONO.     A   Story 

for  Boys.     By  C.  ADAMS.     16mo.  elegant  cloth,  with 

numerous  illustrations,  75  cents. 

%*  The  story  of  "  Edgar  Clifton  "  will  be  found  a  most  appropriate 
companion  to  that  of  "Louis's  School  Days,"  the  aim  of  the  works  being 
alike.  The  same  lessons  of  right  and  truth  are  inculcated  in  each.  The 
contents,  however,  of  the  books,  and  the  heroes  of  the  stories  are  so  en 
tirely  different,  as  to  render  them  not  only  free  from  sameness,  but  full  of 
distinctive  attractions  and  claims. 

BOYS  AT  HOME.    By  C.  ADAMS,   author  of  "Edgar 
Clifton,"  etc.,  etc.    Illustrated  by  John  Gilbert.   1  vol. 
16mo.  75  cents. 
"  A  very  entertaining  volume,  Just  the  kind  to  make  boys  read,  whether 

they  will  or  not ;  and  there  is  no  reason  why  girls  should  not  read  it  too." 


D.  Appleton  &  Cfo.'s  Juvenile  Publications. 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  STOEY  BOOK;  OB,  THE  GOOD 
STEPMOTIIEB.  By  Whom  ?  With  a  Preface  by  CATH- 
EBINE  M.  SEDGWICK.  1  vol.  16ino.  With  illustra 
tions.  Price  75  cents. 

CONTENTS  I 

Ins  BEOTHEES  ;  OB,  IT'S  ONLY    OUE  OWN  LITTLE  EFFIE, 

iTis  WAY,  Two  SKETCHES  FBOM  TUB 

O.     FOFE,  LIFE  SCHOOL, 

MA  iUETTA  AND  HEE  OAT,  THE  SLEIGH-ElDE ;  OE,  WHO 

THE  BEOKEN  HEAETED,  is  THE  MEANEST  ? 

THE  PICTURE  PLEASURE  BOOK.  Illustrated  with 
five  hundred  engravings,  from  drawings  by  eminent  ar 
tists.  4to.  size,  beautifully  printed  on  fine  paper,  and 
bound  in  fancy  cover.  First  and  Second  Series.  $1  50 
each. 

*»*  Almost  every  thing  which  can  please  and  delight  the  youthful 
family  circles,  will  be  found  both  narrated  and  illustrated  in  these  pages. 
No  book  of  equal  fascinations  for  young  people  has  ever  been  published  in 
this  country. 

The  Picture  Pleasure  Book  is  really  the  child's  joy,  for  it  gives  him 
a  volume  of  woodcuts,  executed  in  the  best  style  of  art,  teaching  him  natu 
ral  history,  educating  his  eye  to  good  drawing  and  graceful  form,  and  tell 
ing  stories  in  pictures.  It  is  an  admirable  design,  and  no  house  that  holds 
children  should  be  without  it—  Critic. 

THE  HAPPY  DAYS  OF  CHILDHOOD.  By  AMY 
MEADOWS.  Illustrated  with  24  large  engravings  from 
drawings  by  HAEEISON  WEIE.  4to.  $1. 

— — — —  the  same,  finely  colored,  $1  50. 

These  are  charming  pictures  of  scenes  and  pastimes  In  the  country, 
which  are  familiar  to  all  young  people.  They  are  described  in  a  lively, 
fascinating  spirit,  and  accompanied  with  numerous  embellishments,  and 
will  delight  all  the  young  folks. 

THE    WEEK'S   DELIGHT;    OB,   GAMES  AND  STOEIES 
FOE  THE   PARLOE  AND  FIBESIDE.     One   neat  volume, 
16mo.     With  engravings.     Price  75  cents. 
from  the  Southern  Literary  Messenger. 

This  is  a  charming  little  juvenile:  we  have  read  nothing  so  pleasing 
for  a  long  while,  and  the  simple  fact  that  we  have  had  an  hour's  "  delight " 
over  its  pages,  is  no  small  compliment  we  beg  to  assure  our  readers.  We 
assure  the  readers  of  the  Messenger  that  there  is  something  in  "  A  Week's 
Delight " — unambitious  as  the  tille  sounds.  It  is  simply  a  work  for  good 
little  girls  and  boys,  and  professes  no  higher  end  than  pointing  out  to  them 
the  means  of  spending  winter  evenings  pleasantly  : — this  it  worthily  ac 
complishes,  and  in  a  way  which  none  but  a  woman  could  have  devise'*. 


PUBLISHED    BY 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  346  &  348  BROADWAY. 


MISS  McINTOSH'S  JUVENILE  L1BEAEY. 

7  vols.  ISmo.,  37  cents  each. 


I.  GRACE  AND  CLARA  ;  or, 

Be  Just  as  well  as  Generous. 
ii.  ELLEN  LESLIE  ;  or,  The 

Reward  of  Self-Control 
m.  FLORENCE  ARNOTT;  or, 

Is  She  Generous? 
iv.  EMILY  HERBERT;  or,  The 

Happy  Home. 


V.   ROSE  AND  LlLLIE  STAN 
HOPE  ;    or,  The  Power  ol 

Conscience. 

vi.  JESSIE  GRAHAM  ;  or, 
Friends  Dear,  but  Truth 
Dearer. 

vn.  BLIND  ALICE. 


"  Miss  Mclntosh  is  the  most  fascinating  writer  of  Juvenile  Books  of  the 
present  day.  She  endeavors  to  enforce  good  principles,  while  she  at  the 
same  time  caters  for  the  amusement  of  children." 


TWO  NEW  JUVENILES, 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  THE  "  HEIK  OF  KKDCLTPFB." 

ft 

RICHARD  THE  FEARLESS ;  OR,  THE  YOUNG  DUKE. 
By  the  author  of  the  «  Heir  of  Redclyfie."  With  Il 
lustrations,  1  vol.  16rno.,  price  62  cents. 


THE  LANCES  OF  LYNWOOD. 
vol.  16mo.,  V5  cents. 


With  Illustrations,  1 


works  as  much  admired  by  young  people  as  by  those  more  advanced. 


D.  Appleton  &  CoSs  Juvenile  Publications. 

Just  Published. 
HEWET'S  SERIES  OF  ILLTJMINATED 

HOUSEHOLD  STORIES  FOR  LITTLE  FOLKS.  In  neat 
small  quarto,  with  ten  superb  illustrations,  printed  in 
the  best  style,  on  very  superior  paper,  from  original  de 
signs.  Price  in  illuminated  covers  and  edges,  25  cents ; 
full  bound  and  gilt  edges,  50  cents. 

THIS  SERIES  -WILL  coMPBita  THE  FOLLOWING  VOLUMES  : 
CINDERELLA,  BEAUTY  AND  THE  BEAST, 

JACK  THE  GIANT  KILLER,  ALADDIN, 

Puss  IN  BOOTS,  GOODY  Two  SHOES, 

LITTLE  RED  RIDING  HOOD,        BABES  IN  THE  WOODS, 
JACK  AND  THE  BEAN  STALK,       BLUE  BEARD, 
TOM  THUMB. 

This  Series  of  Fairy  Stories  has  for  generations  been  listened  to  and 
read  by  children  with  an  inexpressible  delight,  which  other  books  hav« 
failed  to  afford  them. 

The  extravagance  of  the  stories— the  attractive  manner  of  telling  them— 
the  picturesque  scenery  described — tha  marvellous  deeds  related — the  re 
ward  of  virtue  and  punishment  of  vice,  upon  principles  strictly  ic  accord 
ance  with  ethical  laws,  as  applied  to  the  formation  of  character,  render 
them  peculiarly  adapted  to  induce  children  to  acquire  a  love  for  reading, 
and  to  aid  them  to  cultivate  the  affections,  sympathies,  fancy  and  imagi 
nation. 

The  principle,  that  good  examples  only  should  be  imitated,  has  been 
lost  sight  of  in  the  Pictorial  Embellishment  of  these  standard  Fairy  Stories, 
upon.the  assumption  that  indifferent  pictures  are  good  enough  to  give  first 
impressions  of  Art  to  Children.  If  this  holds  true,  then  language  and 
morals  of  a  questionable  cast  will  subserve  the  same  ends ;  but  the  fallacy 
of  this  dogma,  notwithstanding,  no  one  upon  reflection  will  deny. 

That  this  edition  of  these  Stories  may  be  more  perfect  than  any  other 
extant,  the  publisher  has  embellished  it  with  exquisite  specimens  of  high 
Pictorial  Art,  from  which  children  may  derive  those  correct  ideas  that 
will  mature  into  the  beautiful  and  grand. 

From  the  Commercial  Advertiser. 

Happy  the  children  whose  first  knowledge  of  Cinderella  is  to  be  gained 
from  such  pages  I  The  illustrations  are  more  elegant  and  expressive  than 
we  have  seen  in  any  previous  edition  of  the  story,  and  the  book  is  so 
tasteful  in  every  respect,  that  it  will  give  its  young  readers  a  lesson  in  Art 
its  well  as  a  capital  version  of  a  favorite  fairy  tale.  It  is  the  first  of  • 
promised  series. 

From  the  N.  Y.  Tribune. 

The  volume  now  issued  gives  a  rich  promise  of  the  character  of  tha 
•eries.  It  lias  a  frontispiece  printed  in  oil  colors,  which  is  a  new  feature  in 
American  illustrated  books.  The  pictorial  embellishments,  which  ar» 
profusely  scattered  throughout  the  volume,  indicate  great  felicity  o< 
ateign.  and  M«  avai-ut^d  in  a  spirited  andhighly  finished  t'tjlw. 


D.  Appleton  &  CoSs  Juvenile  Publications. 

|0plar  Isles. 

By  Mary  Howitt,  Mrs.  Ellis,  Hannah  More,  &c.,  &c. 

ALICE  FRANKLIN.    By  Mary  Howitt     .  $0  33 

HOPE  ON,  HOPE  EVEK.    By  do. 

LITTLE  COIN,  MUCH  CARE.    By  do.      .  S3 

LOVE  AND  MONEY.    By  do.  . 

MY  OWN  STOKY.    By  do.  .  38 

MY  UNCLE,  THE  CLOCKMAKER.    By  do.           .  38 

NO  SENSE  LIKE  COMMON  SENSE.    By  do.    .  38 

SOWING  AND  REAPING.    By  do.    .  88 

STRIVE  AND  THRIVE.    By  do.    .  88 

THE  TWO  APPRENTICES.    By  do 38 

WHICH  IS  THE  WISER  ?    By  do.  88 

WHO  SHALL  BE  GREATEST?    By  do.                   .           .  88 

WORK  AND  WAGES.    By  do 88 

DOMESTIC  TALES.    By  Hannah  More.    2  vols.       .           .  75 

DANGERS  OF  DINING  OUT.    By  Mrs.  Ellis.    ...  88 

FIRST  IMPRESSIONS.    By  do.                                  .  88 

SOMERVILLE  HALL.    By  do 38 

MINISTER'S  FAMILY.    Bv  do.  .      38 

SON  OF  A  GENIUS.    By  Mrs.  Hofland 88 

EARLY  FRIENDSHIP.    By  Mrs.  Copley.       ...  88 

POPLAR  GROVE.    By  do.               .                       .           .           .  88 

CHANCES  AND  CHANGES.    By  Chas.  Burdett      .           .  88 

NEVER  TOO  LATE.    By  do. 88 

CROFTON  BOYS.    By  Miss  Martineau.           .           .           .  ,83 

PEASANT  AND  PRINCE.     By  do 88 

FARMER'S  DAUGHTER.    By  Mrs.  Cameron.  88 

TIRED  OF  HOUSEKEEPING.    By  T.  S.  Arthur.  88 

TWIN  SISTERS.     By  Mrs.  Sandham 88 

LOOKING-GLASS  FOR  THE  MIND 83 

GOLDMAKER'S  VILLAGE.    By  H.  Zschokke.         .           .  .88 

OCEAN  WORK.    Ancient  and  Modern.    By  J.  H.  Wright         .  88 

MART  HOWITT'S  JUVENILE  TALES. 

NEW  EDITIONS,  BOUND  TOGETHER,  ENTITLED  I 

POPULAR  MORAL  TALES.    16mo 75 

JUVENILE  TALES  AND  STORIES.    16mo.       ...  78 

MY  JUVENILE  DAYS,  and  other  Tales.     16mo.       .           .  .75 

TALES  AND  STORIES  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS.       .           .  75 

LIBRARY  FOE  MY  YOTTN(J  COTOTRYMEN. 

ADVENTURES  OF  CAPT.  JOHN  SMITH.     By  the  Author  of 

"Uncle  Philip." 88 

ADVENTURES  OF  DANIEL  BOONE.    By  do.  88 

LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  HENRY  HUDSON.    By  do.  .      88 

D  AWNINGS  OF  GENIUS.    By  Ann  Pratt          ...  33 

LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  HERNAN  CORTEZ.    By  do.  .      88 

PHILIP  RANDOLPH.    A  Tale  of  Virginia.    By  M.  Gertrude.  .  38 

ROWAN'S  HIST.  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.    2  vols.  .      75 

SOUTIIEY'S  LIFE  OF  OLIVER  CROMWELL.             .           .  88 


D.  Appleton  &  CoSs  Juvenile  Publication*. 
GEORGE'S  JOURNEY  TO  THE  LAND  OF  HAPPI- 

NESS.    Translated  from  the  French.    Beautifully  illustrated  with  18 
colored  engravings.    1  vol.  small  4to.  50  cts. 

GIRL'S  MANUAL;  Comprising  a  Summary  View  of 
Female  Studies,  Accomplishments,  and  Principles  of  Conduct  18mo. 
cloth,  50  cts. 

GOOD  IN  EVERY  THING.    A  Juvenile  Tale.   By  Mrs. 

F.ARWELL,    Handsomely  illustrated.    1  vol.  16mo.  50  cts. 

LEGENDS  OF  THE  FLOWERS.     By  SUSAN  PINDAK. 

18mo.  illustrated,  75  cts.  ;  gilt  edges,  $1. 

LIFE   AND   WANDERINGS  OF  A  MOUSE.     By  a 

Lady.    Illustrated  with  10  exquisite  designs  by  CP.OO.ME.    Tvol.  IGmo. 
New  edition.  50  cts. 

LITTLE  DORA  ;  OR,  THE  FOUR  SEASONS.     By  a  Lady  of 

Charleston.    Beautifully  illustrated.  31  cts.  ;  cloth,  25  cts. 

LOUISE  ;  OR,  TnE  BEAUTY  OF  INTEGRITY.  And  other 
Tales.  16mo.  boards,  81  cts.  ;  cloth,  83  cts. 

MASTERMAN  READY  ;  OR,  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  PACIFIC. 
"Written  for  Young  Persons.  By  Capt  MARETATT.  18mo.  frontispiece. 
63  eta. 

MIDSUMMER  FAYS  ;  OR,  THE  HOLIDAYS  AT  WOODLEIGH. 
By  SUSAN  PIKDAR.  18mo.  Illustrated.  75  cts.  ;  gilt  edges,  $1. 

MISSION  (THE)  ;  OR,  SCENES  IN  AFRICA.  Written  for 
Young  People.  By  Capt  MAEKYATT.  18mo.  frontispiece.  03  cts. 

NUTCRACKER  AND  MOUSE-KING.     From  the  Ger 

man  of  HOFFMAN,  by  Mrs.  ST.  SIMON.    16mo.  illustrated.  50  cts. 

OLD  OAK  TREE  (THE).    A  Tale  for  the  Young.  31  cts. 


PEBBLES  FROM  THE  SEA-SHORE;  OR,  LIZZIE'S 

GLEANINGS.  By  a  Father.  Ill  ustrated  with  original  designs  by  CROOMR 
1  voL  square  16mo.  Cloth,  gilt  sides,  88  cts.;  gilt  sides  and  edges, 
50  eta. 

PELL'S   GUIDE  FOR  THE  YOUNG    TO   SUCCESS 

AND  HAPPINESS.    12mo.  cloth,  38  cts.  ;  ext  cloth,  gilt  edges,  50  eta. 

PHILIP  RANDOLPH.    A  Tale  of  Virginia.     By  MART 

GERTRUDE.    ISmo.  38  eta. 


D.  Appleton  &  (70. '«  Juvenile  Publications. 
A  POETRY   BOOK   FOE    CHILDREN.     Beautifully 

Illustrated.     Price  75  cts. 

PUNCHINELLO.  The  Life  and  Adventures  of  Punchi 
nello.  Embellished  with  100  designs.  12mo.  cloth,  75  cts. ;  cloth,  gilt,  $1. 

PUSS  IN  BOOTS.     A  pure  Translation  in  Prose,  from 

the  original  German.  Illustrated  with  original  designs,  suitable  for  tht 
Tastes  of  the  Young  or  Old.  By  the  celebrated  artist,  OTTO  SPECKTMU 
1  vol.  square  12mo,  31  cts. ;  cloth,  38  cts. ;  extra  gilt,  63  cts. 

SETTLERS  (THE)  IN  CANADA.    Written  for  Young 

People.    By  Capt  MABBYATT.  18mo.  frontispiece,  63  cts. 

STUDIES  OF  ANIMALS.  With  Instructions  for  the  Lead 
Pencil  and  Crayon.  Composed  of  spirited  sketches  of  Single  Figure* 
and  Groups  from  Nature ;  with  choice  selections  from  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  Animal  Painters:  accompanied  with  copious  in 
structions.  By  F.  N.  OTIS.  Complete  in  5  numbers,  $1  88 ;  bound, 
$2  25. 

SUSAN      PINDAR'S      STORY-BOOK.       Comprising 

"  Fireside  Fairies,"  and  "  Midsummer  Fays."  Bound  together  in  one 
neat  voL  Numerous  engravings,  $1. 

TALES  OF  ILLUSTRIOUS  MEN.     Comprising  Henry 

Hudson,  Cortez,  Davy,  Reynolds,  Ac.    1  vol.  18mo.,  cloth,  75  cts. 

TRAVELS  AND  EXTRAORDINARY  ADVENTURES 

OF  BOB  THE  SQUIRREL.  Illustrated  with  12  colored  engravings. 
1  vol.  square  16mo.  38  cts. 

VICAR  OF  WAKEFIELD.  A  Tale.  By  OLIVER  GOLD 
SMITH.  1  voL  12mo.  with  numerous  illustrations,  75  cts.  gilt  edges,  $1. 

VILLAGE  AND  OTHER  TALES.    By  HANNAH  MOKE. 

Comprising  the  above  two  volumes  in  owe.  62J  cts. 

WILLIAM  TELL,  THE  PATRIOT  OF  SWITZER 
LAND.  Translated  from  the  French  of  M.  DE  FLOBIAJT.  To  which 
is  added  ANDREAS  HOFER,  the  "  Tell  "  of  the  Tyrol.  ISmo.  fine 
engravings.  Half  cloth,  33  cts. ;  cloth,  50  cts. 

WINTER  EVENING  STORY-BOOK.  Comprising  Sto 
ries  of  Adventure  by  Land  and  Sea,  Domestic  Tales,  <fcc.  Illustrated 
with  wood-engravings.  1  vol.  16ino.  75  cts. 

YOUNG  STUDENT  (THE)  ;  OB,  RALPU  AND  VICTOR.  By 

Madame  GTTIZOT.  From  the  French,  by  SAMUEL  JACKSON.  One  voL 
of  500  pages,  with  illustrations.  T5  cts. 


D.  Appleton  &  Cols  Juvenile  Publications. 
YOUTH'S  (THE)  CORONAL.    By  HANNAH  F.  Gouu>. 

12mo. 

YOUTH'S  (THE)  STORY  BOOK.    1  thick  vol.  18ma 

Cloth.  75  cts. 


A  Large  Variety  of 

NEW  ENGLISH  JUVENILE  BOOKS, 

TOY  BOOKS, 

RECENTLY      I  M P O  B T E D  . 


FOE  THE  YOUNG. 

PICTORIAL     ROBINSON      CRUSOE  — THE     LIFE 

AND  ADVENTURES  OF  ROBINSON  CRUSOE,  By  DANIEL  I>B 
FOE.  With  a  Memoir  of  the  Author,  and  an  Essay  on  his  "Writings, 
with  upwards  of  300  spirited  engravings,  by  the  celebrated  French  ar 
tist,  GBANVTLLE.  One  vol.  8vo.  of  500  pages,  $1  50. 

PICTORIAL   (THE)   YICAR   OF  WAKEFIEIJX      A 

Tale.  By  OLIVEB  GOLDSMITH.  One  volume,  12mo.  with  numerous 
illustrations.  75  cts. ;  gilt  edges,  $1  00. 

PUNCHINELLO— THE  LIFE  AND    ADVENTURES 

OF  PUNCHINELLO.  Embellished  with  100  designs,  12mo.  cloth, 
75  cts. ;  gilt  edges,  $1  00. 

PICTORIAL  HISTORY  OF  NAPOLEON  BONA 
PARTE.  Translated  from  the  French  of  M.  LAXJBENT  DE  L'ABDECHB. 
"With  five  hundred  spirited  illustrations,  after  designs  by  Horace 
Vernet,  and  twenty  original  portraits  engraved  in  the  best  style.  Com 
plete  in  one  handsome  volume,  8vo.  $8  00. 

PICTORIAL    HISTORY  OF    GERMANY.    From  the 

Earliest  Period  to  the  Present  Time.  By  FBEDEBICK  KonLKAuscn. 
Translated  from  the  last  German  edition,  by  Jamee  D"  Ilaas.  On« 
volume,  8vo.  of  500  pages,  $2  Sa 


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